


make me feel (alive)

by melancholywhite



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Ambiguous Relationships, M/M, Romance, Smut, also: they switch 6v6, don't look at the details too closely, versatile!taekai, warning: author has no clue how the fashion industry works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholywhite/pseuds/melancholywhite
Summary: Jongin hasn't been nervous about anything in at least five years. Especially not about photoshoots—that is the one thing he is never nervous about. But this time, his excitement and nervousness will not die down, and maybe, just maybe, one of the causes of this case of nerves is the mystery photographer with the same name as Lee Taemin, the model he had befriended (and more) years ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a long time. This is something that I've been working on for _ages_ now. I can't seem to finish everything in one go, so I decided to release it in parts.
> 
> Enjoy... I guess?

Pose. A click of a shutter

Another pose. Another click of a shutter.

"Perfect!" the photographer shouts, the shutter still clicking and clicking and _ clicking _. "Gorgeous! Yes! That's it!"

_ He's noisy, _Jongin notes as he moves fluidly, the shutter clicking with his every move.

It's not like he isn't already used to it—noise is an everyday occurrence. Loud hair dryers blowing hot air onto his head, makeup artists surrounding him with their brushes on his face, stylists coordinating outfit after outfit on his body, while photographers and staff set up their equipment—the hustle and bustle of a studio is nothing unfamiliar, it's his _ life. _

It's a noisy and hectic life that he doesn't _ always _ enjoy, but it's something, at least.

"That's a wrap!"

The shoot has ended, and in a blink of an eye, he is out of his model persona, back to the friendly and polite Kim Jongin who is always smiling at everyone.

"Good job, Jongin," the photographer says, walking over to offer a handshake. His face is bright with satisfaction from a shoot well done, and Jongin smiles back, taking the offered hand.

"Thank you," he says, polite. "It was great working with you."

"Yes, it's always a pleasure! You know, I actually have another shoot coming up that you might be interested in, it's for…"

Jongin half-listens to the photographer who is trying to make small talk with him, and he responds wherever appropriate with scripted responses directing the other man to contact his agent to make bookings. His schedule is booked for who knows how many months ahead, and even he can't remember everything.

At the right timing, his agent, Junmyeon, enters the studio with a folder in his hand, gesturing at the dressing room. Taking that as his cue, Jongin excuses himself from the photographer and heads towards the man standing in front of his dressing room with a huge, proud smile.

"You look… excited," he comments as he enters the room, his agent following him from behind. As soon as he's inside, his personal stylists rush over to take the priceless clothes off of his body. He glances at Junmyeon from the mirror in front of him. "Did something happen, hyung?"

"No, well, yes. I'm amazed at myself," Junmyeon says, looking incredibly proud of himself. "I just booked you a new job."

Jongin raises an eyebrow. "You book me jobs all the time."

"Well, yes, but this one is special," Junmyeon insists.

"Okay," Jongin shrugs and chuckles as he pulls on a black t-shirt over his head. "What's so special about it, then?"

"It's a cover shoot," Junmyeon says. "For Vogue."

Jongin hums. A Vogue cover is special indeed. They haven't had a man on their cover in years, so Junmyeon's excitement is understandable. He grabs the pair of jeans handed over by his stylist, putting them on while glancing over the dressing table to find a makeup remover. The glitter on his eyelids are falling and they _ itch. _

"Right," Jongin suddenly thought of something while removing the glitter from his eyes. "Who's the female model?"

"No one," Junmyeon is quick to answer, and Jongin halts all movement.

Suddenly, there is silence in the middle of all the noise.

"Wait," Jongin says, slowly processing the information Junmyeon threw at him. "I'm a male model. A _ male _ model. And you're saying I'm going to be the cover of Vogue? All by myself?"

The smug grin on Junmyeon's face comes back.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. And you're going to have a few pages all to yourself inside the magazine too, but yeah, the cover is the most important."

Jongin gapes.

It's not like he has never had his picture plastered all over that magazine. He has. Many times. But still, they don't usually have men be their cover model, even with a female partner, let alone all by himself, with no one else to share the spotlight. He can't even think of the last time that happened—maybe in the decade before this one?

"You're kidding me, right?" Jongin shakes his head, still unable to believe what his agent just revealed. "You _ have _ to be kidding me."

"Nope!" Junmyeon's grin widens, getting so large it could probably fill up the room. "Why are you so surprised?"

"Well, it's _ Vogue," _ Jongin glares at his agent. The man should know why he's surprised. "They never do this."

"That's true, but you're _ the _ supermodel right now, and you know it," Junmyeon states, rather strictly. "You have a ton of fans following your every move and all of the magazines with you on the cover get sold out within an hour. If they wanted a man on their cover and didn't call you for the job, who else would they call?"

Still unable to keep his jaws closed, Jongin sinks down onto the swivel chair in front of the dressing table, itchy eyelids and makeup removers forgotten with the news his agent just sprang onto him.

"Here. The concept details are in the folder. It's interesting. Different from your usual ‘strong charismatic man’ image," the older man hands him the folder he has been holding for some time now. "I think it suits you well—that's why I accepted the job, not just because it's for the cover of Vogue."

Hesitantly, Jongin takes out the papers in the folder and flips through them, searching for the concept. He can't help but be curious; it's not everyday he gets offered this kind of job.

The magazine will be published in the fall, that's what he gathers from the first few lines. Afterwards, pictures and words outline the concept idea—a warm, dream-like autumn at the countryside. The outlined concept makes him picture a whimsical spirit, dancing around the prairie in the middle of red, falling leaves.

It's so _ soft. _

Soft, but strong, all at the same time. This—a concept like this—is something that Jongin has never done before. He has been dubbed as one of the top supermodels for at least five years, but he has never gotten offered anything like this—and it's _ interesting. _

If he has to be honest, he hasn't been excited about his job in a long time. After many years of living this kind of life, modeling has become something easy. He comes in, does his job, and everything just works out perfectly somehow, allowing him to get out of that photoshoot and travel to another one, only to repeat the same thing.

It's a routine. A predictable, boring, routine that doesn't give him any inspiration or motivation to keep going—but he has a strong feeling that this cover shoot is going to change that.

Even now, just from seeing a few lines on paper, he can already imagine the poses he would make, the way he would work the outfits, the way he would try to match the concept even though it's something he has never done. It's a challenge, something that doesn't come very often, and he can feel his heart speed up in excitement. He's _ in love _ with this concept—so in love that he would have taken this job even if it wasn't offered as a Vogue cover shoot.

"Who's the photographer?" Jongin flips through the pages, skimming through pages and pages of English to find the staff lineup. The concept is amazing and he would try his best to embody it, but the photographer is important too. Today's noisy photographer definitely wouldn't be able to pull off _ this _ kind of concept.

"Oh, he's Korean too," Junmyeon answers easily. "His name is Lee Taemin."

At the same moment, his eyes zero in on the photographer's name, and the heartbeat that has sped up earlier came to a sudden stop. He freezes, all movements halted for the second time in the past fifteen minutes.

_ Photographer: Taemin Lee _

It's a name that rings familiar in his ears, despite not hearing it for years and years—a name that brings up memories of many years ago, when he was just starting out as a rookie model, when he didn't have anything to his name.

He can't _ breathe. _

"You've heard of him, right?" Junmyeon asks, oblivious about Jongin's internal conflict. "I heard he was the one who proposed the concept—well, he and the art director did. I accepted the moment I saw the offer because it would fit you _ so well. _ It's creative too, artistically, and I was so sure that you would love the concept—"

Junmyeon's voice fades out from Jongin's attention as he continues staring blankly at the name written on the page, not knowing what—or how—to think.

The Lee Taemin he knew was a model. He was certainly not a photographer back then, at least not to his knowledge, so maybe this is a different person with the same name. After all, Lee is a common surname.

"Our agency has worked with him before, although this is the first time for me," Junmyeon continues. "I've never met him myself, but I've heard rave reviews. He built up his portfolio real fast… His first shoot was for Gucci, and within the past three years the list of magazines and brands he worked with only grew longer. It's truly an amazing feat for someone his age."

Jongin tilts his head. "Someone his age?"

"Yeah, he hasn't even hit _ thirty, _ maybe he's around your age. Can you believe it?" Junmyeon smiles, shaking his head. "He's _ very _ well-connected in this industry, too. I'm excited for you already."

Jongin frowns, deep in thought. The Lee Taemin he knew was also his age—although their career paths were very different. When Jongin was a rookie, Lee Taemin already had his beautiful androgynous face and his silky long hair on the cover of almost every magazine out there. When Jongin had to work his ass off just to get an audition for the one joint shoot he had with Lee Taemin years ago, the other man had been booked _ months _ in advance. When Jongin was auditioning for small-time ads, Lee Taemin was already the face of a bunch of luxury brands—and he had been representing them, one after another, for three years, since he was _ fifteen. _

Jongin doesn't even remember what he was doing when he was fifteen. Probably studying at school, cramming for subjects he doesn't remember.

Despite that, model Lee Taemin suddenly disappeared from the modeling world years ago, before he even hit twenty years old. Now, not many people in the general public would recognize his face. He was forgotten, just like that, replaced by a lot of models from the next generation—including Jongin, because oddly enough, that was around the time Jongin himself got his big break, signing with his current agency, who had built him up from nothing to the supermodel he is today. He had no time to wonder what happened to the Lee Taemin he knew and befriended, even if only for a short while.

In all his admittedly limited knowledge about that Lee Taemin, however, he has never heard of him being a photographer. He only knew Lee Taemin for about a week, and he didn't see the other man carry cameras around or snapping pictures, even if only as a hobby.

In conclusion, this Lee Taemin, the photographer, is probably just a different person with the same name. He's sure of it. Very sure. It's impossible for only one Lee Taemin to exist in this world, and the photographer is not the same person as the model—the friend—he had forgotten about.

"Anyway," Junmyeon's voice cuts through the silence that was never truly silent. The man gets up from his seat, walking to the door. "You're flying to Paris next month for the photoshoot. I'm going outside for a bit, read the file and sign it before I come back."

Jongin blinks. "Next month? I thought my schedule was fully booked until at least three months from now!"

"Well, I rescheduled things!" Junmyeon huffs, "Besides, it's not like you remember all your schedules anyway!"

With that, Junmyeon takes his dramatic exit, leaving Jongin in the room with his stylists and assistants laughing behind him.

-

A month later, Jongin arrives in Paris.

It's past midnight, and he hasn't slept properly in at least a week. He honestly has no idea how he is still functioning. In fact, he thinks he might be sleeping right at this moment, even though his eyes are open, and he can see his assistants handling everything once they landed—getting them through immigration, lugging their suitcases, taking everyone to the hotel, and checking him into his hotel suite.

The next thing he knows, he's throwing himself onto the plush bed in his room, burying his face into the pillows. Behind him, his assistants fuss around the room, unpacking and arranging outfits inside the provided closet, the annoying sounds of metal hangers being dragged across the rod out of rhythm bothering Jongin's supposed 'resting time'. Thankfully, they finally came out after what seemed to be forever, their steps stopping right by the bed.

"We're going to go to our rooms," one of them says. "We have to be on standby at the location by 8 AM. I already set your alarms."

"Are you kidding me," he grumbles. It's probably two in the morning right now; he hasn't even slept, and he would have to wake up in four hours. _ Four hours. _ "Okay, wake me up."

He probably won't wake up, but they will probably drag him inside the car anyway—awake or asleep.

"Got it. Good night!"

Jongin mumbles his barely-there response, although he doesn't know if they heard him. 

Waiting until all the sounds die down, he rolls over to lie on his back, staring at the unnecessarily intricate ceiling. In the silence of the room, the now-unfamiliar feeling of nervousness in his chest seems to find it easier to come to the surface.

Jongin hasn't been nervous about _ anything _ in at least five years. Especially not about photoshoots—that is the one thing he is never nervous about. He's always well prepared, and he has enough confidence that he will do everything well. Besides, despite all the different activities in his schedule, every day is pretty much the same. He gets hauled from one location to the next to take pictures every single day of every single week, and his schedule is always so exhaustingly full that he can't even spare any time to think if it was Monday or Saturday. 

Sometimes, he wonders if he has turned into a machine whose only job is to be ready to stand and pose in front of a camera at any time. He was so accustomed to his job that he didn't even know what it feels like to be nervous or excited about a shoot anymore. Even if he _ was _ excited at first, the excitement would have died down by the time the flight landed in whichever country he was flown to.

This time is different.

For the first time in what feels like forever, his excitement for the shoot has not died down—it only went _ up, _ along with the level of his nervousness. Not just anyone can get an offer to be the cover of Vogue—and the criteria is even more selective for male models. He is grateful and honored, but at the same time, he feels pressure at a level he hasn't felt in years. For some reason, he can't treat this photoshoot just like he would treat any of the other ones he had been on in the past week. He had already read over the files, and he had an image of what he would want to present—he even researched the art director's style, and searched for the photographer's portfolio on the Internet—he is more than just well-prepared. He knows that he's ready for the photoshoot, that he would be able to nail it just like any other one, but he's still nervous.

Maybe, one of the causes of this case of nerves is the mystery photographer with the same name as Lee Taemin, the model.

During his research, he had typed the photographer's name everywhere in the Internet, looking for a picture of him, but he can't find any. Zero. Nada. All the search results gave him were his portfolio—covers of various magazines, print ads for big luxury brands—and, unsurprisingly, pictures of Lee Taemin, the model. The photographer doesn't even have an Instagram account, something rare in this day and age, and Jongin is _ frustrated, _ unable to confirm if this Lee Taemin is the same one he knew.

It really shouldn't matter so much whether or not they are the same person—it just makes him think about the last time he met this… old acquaintance of his.

He had worked with Lee Taemin, the model, once. It was back when he was a rookie, an eighteen-year-old fresh to the industry. Getting through the auditions and being in that photoshoot felt like such a huge opportunity to Jongin at the time, which proved to be correct because it got him scouted by his current company, and his career only went up from there. The opportunity also brought a ton of pressure with it, and he was so nervous throughout the week they stayed at the photoshoot location, he couldn't get himself to sleep, night after night. He couldn't sleep at all, the first night. Fortunately, he decided to walk around in the hotel on the second night, and bumped into his savior, his senior, Lee Taemin, who asked him why he was walking around instead of sleeping. One way or another, Jongin ended up getting along with Taemin so well that he ended up spending every night from then on in Taemin's room, curled up under the blankets while watching illegally downloaded movies on Taemin's laptop until they both fall asleep.

That was it.

Until the last night—the last time Jongin ever saw Taemin.

The last night of the shoot was the most awkward, yet the most memorable night of them all—even though Jongin likes to think that he has already forgotten everything about it. It started out normally, the two of them watching movies in Taemin's room like always. However, neither of them realized that the movie they picked turned out to have an unexpectedly uncensored sex scene midway, and they had to awkwardly sit through it together.

It would have been fine if that was where it ended, but no—unsurprisingly, watching the explicit scene gave Jongin quite an obvious boner… and Taemin noticed.

It's one of the most embarrassing moments of his life, but one thing led to another and he found out that they were _ both _ hard—then Taemin, being the curious young man that he was, offered to jerk him off. He doesn't know what came over him, probably puberty, but he accepted, and he got himself the first and most awkward handjob he has ever gotten—and given, because he decided to do the same to Taemin.

It felt good. _ Embarrassingly _ good, in fact. He came so fast—way, _ way _ too fast.

They didn't look at each other anymore afterwards, falling asleep with their backs facing each other, and they didn't keep in touch after that night, either. Taemin was long gone by the time he woke up, his schedules being much busier than Jongin's. He never had the chance to say goodbye properly, and afterwards, Jongin's career skyrocketed, his days becoming increasingly hectic. He didn't have the time to think about this long-lost friend of his—if he could even be considered a friend—gradually disappearing from the industry. He had also met many people—who gave him much, much better handjobs, to be frank—that he barely even remembered Lee Taemin. This photographer's name just triggered the memory; that's all there is to it.

Anyway, it's not like it matters—or at least that's what he keeps trying to tell himself.

They could be the same person, or they could be different people with the same name. Hopefully the latter. There is no need to think too much about this, and there is also no need to be nervous about the possibility of a reunion with that beautiful boy with soft, platinum blonde locks that always seem to fall perfectly past the silver studs on his ears.

He probably doesn't even have blonde hair anymore—he remembers Taemin saying that his natural hair color was black.

Either way, tomorrow, he will do his job and focus on the shoot, so he can get everything done in one go. Everything will be just fine.

Just.

Fine.

-

_ He's hard. _

_ He knows he's hard. _

_ It's just one stupid sex scene in the middle of a movie, and it's not even that explicit, just some naked skin and fake moaning. But he's hard, in the most awkward way possible, and he needs it to go down right now, before Taemin notices. _

_ "Jonginnie." _

Don't notice, don't notice, don't notice, don't notice, don't notice—

_ "Jonginnie," Taemin repeats, his voice soft and quiet, and Jongin resists the urge to close his eyes or turn away from Taemin's curious gaze. "Do you need help?" _

_ "...What?" he croaks, in a rather embarrassing way. "What help?" _

_ Taemin quirks his eyebrows, and his eyes travel south towards the obvious bulge on Jongin's crotch, and… shit. _

_ "I—" Jongin flails. Or at least he thinks he's flailing. He's just waving his hands around in an attempt to look casual about accidentally getting a boner in the middle of watching a movie with his new friend. "I'm sorry, it'll go down by itself in a while. Just. Fuck. I'm so sorry." _

_ "That's not what I meant," Taemin says, leaning a little closer. "I'm asking if you need a hand. A helping hand. Because I'm down, if you need me." _

_ "Uh, what do you—" Jongin stammers, his eyes widening, because the conclusion his brain arrived to just _ can't _ be right. "Are you offering to—" _

_ "Jerk you off? Yes. I am." _

_ Taemin says it without as much as a blush, or maybe Jongin just can't see it because of the darkness. He talks like he does this everyday, offers this to everyone who just happens to get hard in his presence, and it's quite disturbing. _

_ "But… why?" _

_ "Just because," Taemin answers simply. "If you want, you can help me too. We'll help each other." _

_ At that statement, Jongin's eyes can't help but drift downwards to Taemin's crotch—and okay, it looks like he's not the only one who got an untimely boner. He's not alone in this, though he doesn't know if that knowledge is supposed to make things better, or make things worse. _

_ "So?" _

_ Taemin loops the string of Jongin's pajama pants around his index finger as one of his eyebrows quirked up, his other hand tucking his platinum blonde hair behind his ear. He looks absolutely bewitching, and Jongin can't possibly say no to him, so he nods. _

_ He nods, feeling his face heating up into flames, and maybe his head will explode soon, but on the contrary, Taemin grins at him, as if he had just found something exciting. _

_ Without as much as a blush or any semblance of hesitation, Taemin brings Jongin's waistband down, just enough for him to expose his dick—and Jongin can't stop the loud moan from leaving his throat when Taemin wraps his fingers around it and starts _pumping.

_ "You help me with mine," Taemin whispers into his ear, making shivers travel down his spine. "Let's do this together." _

_ "Fuck," Jongin curses, as he fumbles awkwardly with Taemin's pants, trying to open it while rubbing his bulging crotch at the same time. The sinful moan that Taemin's angelic lips let out at Jongin's touch went straight down to his cock, and he doesn't think he has ever been so hard. "I hope this isn't the worst decision I've ever made." _

_ "Nope," Taemin says, his voice low and breathy from arousal, and probably—hopefully—from the feeling of Jongin's hand around his dick. He grins and starts moving his hand faster as if he had just received a challenge, making Jongin groan. "It's actually the best decision you've ever made." _

-

When Jongin opens his eyes, he is no longer in his hotel suite, but inside a van that has just arrived at the shoot location. He has no idea how he got into the van or how long the ride was, but now his assistants are ushering him out of the van and into a trailer full of makeup artists and stylists. The place is bustling with activity—staff setting up, stylists matching outfits—and the familiar setting makes him wonder why he was so nervous last night. Feeling automatically more relaxed, he takes his time to close his eyes and concentrate, while people pull at his hair and dab makeup onto his face. The art director comes in halfway through, greeting him and briefing him about schedules, outfit changes, the usual routine; and then he is declared done with his first outfit, allowed to leave the trailer to head to the first photoshoot location, only barely a three minute walk from where the trailer is stationed.

They are shooting outdoors, somewhere in a suburb near Paris, although the first location is not outside, but inside the house they are walking towards. The small, unoccupied house surrounded by flowers is aptly located in the middle of an open grassland that gradually ascends and blends into the grassy hills in the background. It's a very scenic location, suitable for the more fantasy-like concept of the photoshoot, portraying him as a sort of fantasy creature—a nymph, an elf, maybe even a mischievous fairy?—free to fly and play around without a care. He can _ feel _ inspiration flowing through him, getting him in the zone, and he is truly relaxed now, no longer worried about all the pressure weighing him down.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

The art director turns to him with a smile on her face, and he nods in response, following the woman as she enters the house, which is actually just a large empty space. It is set up with all kinds of white fabric hanging from the ceiling, and the staff members inside are setting up additional lights, presumably taking into account the natural light coming in through the windows.

A dark-haired man is standing in the middle of the room, directing everyone and evaluating their work in setting up the place. His identity is pretty clear at first sight—he is the mysterious photographer Lee Taemin, who doesn't even have Instagram, and whose face Jongin wasn't able to find through Google search.

"Have you met Taemin before?"

Jongin shakes his head, smiling at the art director's question. "No, this should be our first time working with each other."

"Oh, is that so?" the art director says with a grin. "Then I guess it's time for an introduction. He's a very nice young man, though a little bit of a perfectionist—but I know that you are one, too, so I believe you'll get along very well."

Jongin doesn't know how to respond to that, but he sure hopes that they will get along well, otherwise his first—and probably last—Vogue cover is going to turn into a mess.

Before he knows it, the art director is already leading him in the photographer's direction, calling out for the man's attention.

"Taemin! Let me introduce you to the model."

The moment the photographer turns around, Jongin's heart almost stops.

Despite the long, black fringe covering his face along with the large silver-rimmed glasses, his features are clear.

And that face.

That _ face. _

It's the same familiar face that turns Jongin's whole body rigid, the one that made his heart suddenly sink to his stomach to dissolve into nervous jumping butterflies.

It's not that Jongin wasn't able to find the man's picture on the Internet.

He found them—he found _ many _ of them—but he still decided to stay in denial, not wanting to accept the reality that Photographer Lee Taemin is unmistakably the same Lee Taemin who used to be _ the _ model on every magazine that existed, the same Lee Taemin who had befriended him and watched movies with him for a week to get his nerves out of the way, and _ also _ the same Lee Taemin who impulsively gave (and received) Jongin's first handjob, ever.

He doesn't know what to do with this information.

What is he going to say? Should he pretend to not know him? Does Taemin even_ remember him at all? _

"Hi, I'm Taemin, I'll be taking your pictures today. Nice to meet you."

Taemin's voice sounds different. It didn't sound like this in Jongin's memories; Taemin sounds like he's speaking to a stranger, polite and courteous in the way he wouldn't be if he was speaking to a friend. There's a hand held out in front of him for a handshake, and Jongin snaps himself out of his thoughts quick enough to take Taemin's hand before it gets awkward.

The hand is small, fitting nicely in his larger palm, and it's soft—_ so soft _—but that is not the point here. He clears his throat.

"Kim Jongin, at your service," he introduces himself with his professional smile, hoping the inner panic he's experiencing doesn't show on his face. "Nice to meet you too, Taemin."

"Looking forward to working with you," Taemin smiles at him—well, he smirks. It looks more like a smirk, at least to Jongin. The earlier politeness has disappeared, replaced with an easy, friendly approach. "My friends told me that you're really good at your job, so I have high expectations."

At that, Jongin chuckles. This is the kind of banter he's familiar with, at least with his colleagues in the industry.

"Well," he pauses, returning the smirk. "I'll work hard to not let you leave this place disappointed."

"That's good to hear," Taemin laughs.

Jongin thinks that his laugh might just be the most beautiful laugh he has seen in his life. This is a secret, though. Jongin will take it to his grave—at least for the time being.

"Okay, Jongin, now that we're introduced, let's start." Taemin's friendly countenance fades into a serious expression, as he directs Jongin to position."You've been briefed about the concept, correct?"

"Yes," he answers, getting slightly nervous at the lack of a smile on Taemin's face. Like this, his presence is almost commanding, and it's making Jongin's heart race—in the _ I'm nervous _ way, of course, not any other way his heart could be racing, and definitely not the _ I think I'm regaining a crush on my old crush _ way. "Should we give it a try?"

"Yeah, we'll take a couple practice shots," Taemin nods. "Ready?"

Jongin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he forgets all about his nerves, or any outside pressure weighing him down. He is his model persona, all hardened gazes and strong angles, ready to spread his presence in front of the camera and beyond.

"Bring it on."

-

Jongin finds himself in the hotel bar that night, unable to sleep. It's a habit he's had since he started working; he just can't sleep after photo shoots—it used to be because of nerves, but now it's just because it takes him a long time to get his adrenaline down. He is sitting alone, just drinking a glass of coke; no alcohol, because he makes it a point not to drink outside of formal parties or events. It's not a big deal, he's just traumatized after the first time he suddenly had to pick up his two drunk roommates and haul them into their apartment all by himself, despite also being drunk from drinking alone at home. He doesn't want that to ever happen again—although it's unlikely that someone is going to call him to pick them up while he's out here in Paris—so he just doesn't drink anymore, unless he has to.

Just as his thoughts were starting to drift to his roommates—he has no clue why he's still living with them, the three of them are a _ mess _ together—he hears the barstool next to him being pulled, and a familiar voice calling out to the bartender.

"Two glasses of whiskey, please."

Jongin turns his head to his right to find Taemin, in his all-black outfit and silver-rimmed glasses, taking a seat right next to him so casually that one would think he comes to this hotel bar every single day. 

"Hi there, Jonginnie," Taemin greets. "Still can't sleep after photoshoots?"

Jongin's eyes widen at the question, and a teasing smile appears on Taemin's lips as a reaction. He suddenly feels the need to huff out a complaint.

"So you _ do _ remember me," he says. "I've been wondering to myself all the way through the shoot—I thought you forgot."

"That's my line," Taemin laughs, his cheeks bunching up into little balls under his eyes. "I thought _ you _ forgot about me. I can't possibly _ not _ remember you—especially not when you're in almost every billboard I see in every city I go to."

Taken aback by the response, Jongin could only chuckle. "Well… I guess that's true."

"It's very true," Taemin nods. "You're a hard one to forget, you know."

Jongin was about to ask what Taemin meant by his words, but the bartender comes back with Taemin's order before he could, making Taemin turn his attention away from Jongin for a second to receive the drinks with a smile and a thank you.

"For you," Taemin says, sliding one of the glasses to Jongin, "My treat."

Jongin blinks down at the glass in front of him. "I don't drink alcohol—besides at social events when I actually _ have _ to."

"Well, this is a social event. You're socializing with me, now, aren't you?" Taemin counters. "I'm not trying to get you drunk or anything, I promise. It's just to make it easier for you to sleep."

"How do you know that?" he asks back, skeptical.

"It makes it easier for _ me _ to sleep, and if I remember correctly, we had a lot of things in common," Taemin chuckles, and Jongin grumbles, because the other man remembers everything but acted like they were strangers earlier in the day, confusing him to the point of hell and back.

"Fine, then," he gives in, and takes his glass, holding it in the air. "Cheers. To a successful photoshoot."

Taemin raises an eyebrow, then shakes his head. "Too professional. Let's toast on something else."

"What else is there?"

"We got reunited today, didn't we?" Taemin's lips part into a grin, and he raises his glass. "Cheers to that."

Jongin can't help but smile as well, because as much as he feared it, today wasn't as weird or as awkward as he thought it would be.

"Cheers."

They clink their glasses together, and for a moment, there was silence. It's not a _ bad _ silence, though; it's a comfortable silence, and there is nothing Jongin loves more than that.

"You did an amazing job today," Taemin breaks the pause in conversation.

Jongin raises one of his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah," Taemin nods. "I've never really worked with anyone as dynamic as you, and you really understood how to work the outfits you were given, within the direction. I was impressed."

"Well, thank you," Jongin smiles, taking a sip of his drink. It burns. Just a little. "I haven't seen the final results, but the pictures you took earlier looked amazing too."

"Thanks to your cooperation," Taemin grins at him, and Jongin returns it with one of his own.

"I guess we work well together. We should do that again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd love that," Taemin says. "It's not everyday I find a model who could work so well with me."

"I think I know how you feel," Jongin chuckles, thinking back to the hectic day he had just gotten through. It was busy, and he's tired as hell, but it was _ fun. _ "I had so much fun at today's shoot, more fun than I've had in awhile."

"We didn't talk much." It seems like it's now Taemin's turn to be skeptical. "That was still fun?"

"I don't really like noise in the first place," Jongin admits, smiling at Taemin. "We still communicated just fine without shouting words over the camera, didn't we?"

"Yeah. I didn't need to say anything because you already understood."

"Exactly. It was like, I don't know… like I found my soulmate? In a photographer version?"

Taemin laughs again. Jongin still thinks that his laugh is the most beautiful laugh he has seen in his life, and he resists the urge to grin like a stupid lovesick fool with an obvious crush.

Because he _ doesn't _ have a crush. He is just appreciating beauty—anyone can appreciate beauty.

"You're right. That's exactly how it felt like—except you're the model version. It felt like I was taking pictures of myself."

"Well, I did learn some things from watching you. When you were a model, I mean."

"I'm honored, I guess," Taemin replies. "Anyway, let's talk about something else. What are you working on lately?"

"A lot of things," Jongin replies truthfully. "Shoots, all day every day. How about you?"

"Well, I'm probably not busier than you are, but…"

-

When Jongin asked the follow-up question, he had no idea that this simple conversation would end up taking hours, that they would end up talking about anything and everything until the bartender had to come up to them to tell them that they were closing.

"Are you staying here too?" Jongin asks as they head to the elevators, and Taemin nods.

"Yeah. Which floor are you staying? I'll walk you there first."

Jongin shrugs and enters the elevator, tapping his keycard and selecting the top floor. "You sure you don't want to go back first?"

"No need. We're on the same floor anyway," Taemin waves his own card with a grin. "Neighbors."

"Makes sense." The magazine staff probably just booked out a few rooms in the same floor for everyone they called in from abroad.

He and Taemin spends the short elevator ride in silence, and once they walk out, Taemin makes good on his earlier plan to walk him to his room.

"Here's my room," Jongin says, stopping in front of his door with a smile. "You have a good night."

"Oh, I almost forgot—let me give you my number," Taemin pats his own pants to find something, and finally takes out his wallet from the back pocket. He pulls out a card and hands it to Jongin. "Here's my card. That's my number."

"Thanks," Jongin receives the card and pulls his phone out right away to enter the number, but Taemin stops him.

"Wait, that's my business number, no need to type that one in. If you're gonna do that, I'll just give you my personal number," Taemin says, so Jongin nods and hands over his phone to let him enter his own number.

Once Taemin gives him back his phone, he sends him a text so he knows his number too. The phone in Taemin's pocket rings; he takes it out and shows the text to Jongin.

"Thanks," Taemin says. "Let's stay in contact, okay?"

"Got it," Jongin responds with a smile, opening his door with his keycard. "Good night."

Taemin steps away and heads toward his own room, waving at Jongin. "Night!"

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it. It's a bit different from what I usually write... For once, I'm not censoring the smut lmao. And as I said in the tags, I know nothing about the fashion industry (or photography) so excuse me if the details are off.
> 
> Anyway, comments are appreciated, and you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite)! Thank you for reading ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, I just want to say I'm sorry if the quality isn't up to your expectations. I wrote/edited this in a rush T^T
> 
> ANYWAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONGINNIE ♡

"Welcome home!"

Jongin pauses right before he enters the living room, because one of his roommates and fellow model, Chanyeol, is sprawled on the couch while wearing the most unfashionable pair of black t-shirt and black track pants. He is also playing an animated movie on TV—god knows which one of his favorites it was.

"How come you're here?"

"It's my day off," Chanyeol answers without taking his eyes off the television, "Don't look at me like I'm jobless. I haven't had a break in almost three months now!"

"Who's looking at you like you're jobless?" Jongin laughs, shaking his head. "It's just… Do you not own anything other than this pair of black t-shirt and track pants?"

"Nope. But I do have a whole closet consisting of the exact same black t-shirts and track pants," Chanyeol answers proudly, sitting up on the couch and puffing out his chest. "If I need anything else, I'll just steal your clothes. Or Sehun's. You and Sehun have so many clothes that you'd never  _ ever _ find a way to wear everything anyway."

Jongin huffs and takes a seat next to Chanyeol, stretching his legs. "That's true. Where  _ is _ Sehun, anyway?"

"He left for Italy this morning," Chanyeol leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable again. "You just missed him."

Jongin shrugs. This apartment, although shared by the three of them, rarely has all of its occupants there at the same time. They are all models, all busy with their own jobs, traveling all over the world almost every week. He supposes that is one of the reasons why their roommate arrangement works; they don't have many fights because they don't spend all day every day with each other.

"By the way," Chanyeol changes the topic, eyes darting towards Jongin in curiosity. "How was your photoshoot with Lee Taemin?"

Jongin recalls his experience in Paris, and he can't help but smile. "It was fun. I was tired as hell, but I had an amazing time."

"Wait, what?" Chanyeol's head completely turns in his direction, this time. "You had an amazing time? At a photoshoot with  _ Lee Taemin? _ Are you kidding?"

Jongin frowns. "No, I'm serious. Is there a problem…?"

Chanyeol shakes his head, eyes blown wide. "No, it's just… Wow."

"What am I missing?" Jongin raises an eyebrow, getting more confused because he doesn't know what this is about. "Do you know him, or something?"

"Of course I do! And  _ nobody _ has an 'amazing time' when they're in that guy's photoshoot. Nobody!" Chanyeol whines, loudly. "I did one for a magazine once, and he nitpicked on everything so much that we had to extend the shoot by three hours. Three! Hours! Can you believe him?"

"And when was this?" Jongin folds his arms in front of his chest. This really doesn't sound like the Taemin he worked with. Taemin was rather pleasant, actually—their tastes clicked so well that the photoshoot went smoothly. "I didn't know you've done a photoshoot with him."

"I did! Last year! When I went home with the worst mood ever, remember?" Chanyeol huffs. Jongin doesn't remember much, but he does recall Chanyeol complaining to him about some photographer.

So that was about Taemin, huh. He can't remember what Chanyeol said about the photographer back then, but he suddenly feels the need to defend Taemin, for some reason. 

"The worst thing is that all of his criticisms and directions are on point," Chanyeol continues. "Though of  _ course _ they were on point—how long had he been a model, again? He was so strict to me, I swear—"

"Wait. You  _ knew _ that he was a model?" Jongin interrupts. "As in  _ the _ Lee Taemin, that ex-model?"

"Well, yeah," Chanyeol frowns. "Did Junmyeon not tell you? Kyungsoo told me."

Jongin can only blink. If Kyungsoo, Chanyeol's agent, could have that information, then Junmyeon would certainly have it too. Did Junmyeon tell him? Was it when he wasn't listening?

"Jongin?" Chanyeol asks, after Jongin had paused for a little too long. "Is something wrong?"

Jongin shakes his head. "No—just. I didn't know that Lee Taemin, the model, became a photographer. Until I met him again, that is."

"Yep. He became a nitpicky perfectionist of a photographer," Chanyeol says, with scorn. "I mean, he has  _ amazing _ skills, but it doesn't feel very good to have your every move dictated, you know?"

"I guess…? But honestly, my photoshoot really didn't go like that at all." Even when Jongin thinks back to the shoot, he can't remember Taemin nitpicking on anything he did. Not at all. "He was really nice, actually, and he didn't say much to me during the shoot—"

"Wait a second," Chanyeol suddenly cuts him off. "Did you say 'until you met him  _ again'? _ You  _ know _ him?"

"Uh. Does being friends seven years ago count as knowing him?" Jongin scratches his ear. Chanyeol's question is bringing up memories of  _ the old times _ again, and to be honest, it's an embarrassing memory that he doesn't really want to recall.

"Wow. You were friends with him? That's amazing."

"No, I— Well, we were only friends for a week-long photoshoot… I honestly thought he forgot about me—"

"But he didn't?" Chanyeol asks, and Jongin shakes his head in response. "Maybe that's why he was nice to you. Because you were friends."

"I don't think so," Jongin says. "We worked well together, like… we just  _ clicked, _ you know?"

That got Chanyeol silent. He seems speechless, his jaw just hanging there, like he wants to say something, but doesn't know how to say it.

"What?" Jongin prompts with a sigh. "Just say it."

"It's… Well," Chanyeol clears his throat. "Are you sure you and Mister Nitpicky Photographer were  _ just _ friends, seven years ago?"

Jongin looks away. "We were."

"It certainly doesn't sound like it," Chanyeol insists. "Maybe he liked you? Seven years ago?"

"Well, he certainly liked me. As a  _ friend," _ Jongin answers, thinking back to the time he woke up in Taemin's empty hotel room, slightly disoriented and confused because he was alone, and there wasn't even any note telling him what happened. Not even a proper goodbye. "If he liked me any other way, I don't think he would have left in the morning without a word. Plus he didn't even try to contact me at all after that week."

"Wait—in the morning? What were you doing—"

"Nothing, okay?" Jongin says, before Chanyeol could even finish his question. His voice got a little bit high; it sounded a little too defensive to his liking, but what's done is done. "We weren't really friends—and it's been seven years since we lost contact."

"And you didn't catch up at the photoshoot?"

"No," Jongin answers, not looking into Chanyeol's eyes. Chanyeol is not having it, though; he keeps staring at Jongin skeptically until Jongin sighs and decides to just say it. "We didn't talk at the shoot, but we had a couple drinks after."

"Just the two of you?"

Jongin nods.

"At the hotel?"

Jongin nods again, and Chanyeol squints at him.

"Did you fuck—"

"What? No!" Jongin denies immediately. "We didn't—we just talked, okay? We talked and talked and talked until the bar had to close—and we might have continued talking in one of our rooms if he didn't already know that I had to fly to a whole other country in less than six hours. So yeah. That's it. No gossip there."

"I don't believe you," Chanyeol says. "There's something you're not telling me here."

"No! I swear!" Jongin groans. "We really did just catch up with each other over some drinks. Then he walked me to my room, gave me his number, and left."

Chanyeol jumps to his feet and points at him. "Aha! He gave you his number!"

Jongin curses. He didn't mean to tell Chanyeol that.

"I knew it. You _ were  _ hiding something," Chanyeol nods, sitting back down with a smug smile. "What's it like, though, having Mister Nitpicky Photographer's number?"

Jongin rolls his eyes. "Just like having another number in your contacts."

It's true—it's not like he and Taemin are texting, anyway. There's only one message in their chat history, and that's just Jongin sending his number to Taemin. He doesn't even know if he's supposed to text Taemin first or wait for a text to come. What would he even say? That he just arrived in Seoul?

"Liar. You're thinking about it right now," Chanyeol quips. "If you want my opinion on this, though—I think he's too nitpicky. Really. You only worked with him once. What if you don't click anymore? You should reconsider while it's still early."

"We're really not doing anything—"

"Besides, Jongin-ah," Chanyeol suddenly has a serious expression on his face. "You're an amazing model. An A-list  _ supermodel. _ You don't need to go through a casting couch just to be successful—"

"What the fuck—"

"—so just be confident in yourself, and you'll be fine! No need to sleep with nitpicky photographers who keeps telling you what to do and extending shoots for three hours—ow!"

Jongin throws a cushion right in Chanyeol's face, making him yelp in surprise.

"For the love of god, Park Chanyeol!"

-

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ In Rome rn _

_ <picture> _

_ Talked to Oh Sehun and he said he knows you _

Jongin was in a hair salon—getting his hair dyed to a lighter brown than usual for a shoot he has in two days—when he receives texts from Taemin. It's been about a week since they met again, and this is the first text he received from the other man.

It's a little surprising, honestly. He thought he would have to text first, for some reason; he even spent the whole week thinking of what topic would be appropriate to text him about. Now all that thinking was for naught, because Taemin just casually texted him. About Sehun.

_ Yeah he's my roommate, _ he types, then hits send before he could second guess himself and delete the whole text.  _ What are you shooting? _

Jongin hasn't even put his phone down when the reply came.

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ Zegna campaigns _

Jongin nods as he reads it. It makes sense; Sehun has always modeled for the brand, and Chanyeol did say that their roommate went to Italy last week.

_ Sounds fun, _ Jongin types. Then he suddenly got a bright idea, and grins as he sends the text.  _ Any plans to shoot Gucci campaigns? Maybe for next season's collection? _

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ Why lol _

_ Do you wanna work with me again so badly 6v6 _

Jongin blinks. Taemin is not responding the way he expected—Jongin expected him to ask who the model would be or why he even asked, not ask a question about Jongin wanting to work with him again, a question that makes it seem like he's  _ certain _ that if he shoots Gucci's campaign he would be working with Jongin… wait.

_ Do you already know...? _ Jongin sends, and he waits as Taemin types his reply.

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ About your new contract with them? _

_ Of course I know, Mister Gucci Ambassador 6v6 _

_ Their creative director is one of my best friends lol _

_ And congrats btw _

Jongin doesn't know if he should be surprised, or if he should have expected it. He literally just signed the contract a week ago, right before flying to Paris for his photoshoot with Taemin, and it wouldn't be announced to the public until months from now. He knows that Taemin is well-connected in the industry—he was a model for  _ years, _ and everyone loved him so much that he was basically the whole fashion industry's baby—but he didn't think that he would be best friends with the new creative director of Gucci. Jongin has only met him once, and he remembers that the man had… quite a personality. His work is amazing though, Jongin can't deny that.

His phone vibrates once again, and another message from Taemin appears on the screen.

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ I already got the offer, if you're wondering _

_ To shoot your first campaign _

Jongin suddenly feels giddy.

_ Really???? Are you taking it???? _ He types, feeling belatedly embarrassed about the excessive amount of question marks right after he pressed Send.

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ Maybe _

_ 6v6 _

That is all Taemin replies him with. Jongin bombards him with sad, angry, and pouty emojis, but he doesn't get anything besides another  _ 6v6 _ —what does that even  _ mean? _

** _Lee Taemin_ **

_ Gtg _

_ Break's over _

_ Text again later 6v6 _

-

Jongin was in the middle of a photoshoot, posing for the camera and barely listening to the photographer's praise, when he realized that he and Taemin had been texting every single day since they got back in touch. It was around November, if he remembers correctly, and that time, he suddenly realized that he and Taemin had texted each other everyday for a whole month. Nonstop. Thirty days spent texting Taemin every available moment he had, from day to night, talking about anything and everything, from the weather and their travels, to serious discussions about work and the latest industry gossip. 

They fell into the habit of taking time to contact each other so naturally that it made him feel a little giddy inside. Whenever he sees a new message from Taemin on his notifications, he would feel the corners of his lips curl up into a smile, a grin, or even a twisted face because he's attempting not to smile. Sometimes Taemin takes forever to reply, and sometimes Jongin doesn't see the message until hours later. They are both busy people, and they travel so much that they are almost never in the same time zone, but the giddy feeling doesn't disappear—in fact, his excitement to receive the messages was probably amplified by that instead. It's a bit embarrassing.

Now, two months have passed. It's a bitter January winter in New York City, where he is attending an invitation-only New Year's party hosted by Gucci, but he still has the same exact reaction when he felt his phone vibrate in his suit pocket.

It takes him a few minutes to excuse himself from the people who have been making small talk to him, before he finally finds a quiet corner and takes his phone out to read the text.

** _6v6_ **

_ Hey, you still there? _

_ I just arrived, where are you? _

Jongin almost forgot that he will be seeing Taemin today. He was also invited to the party, as a close friend of the creative director, and he had texted Jongin earlier in the week to tell him that he would be coming to the party.

To be completely honest, that was the only reason Jongin even bothered to get out of bed and go to the party—besides his contract with the brand, that is. Even though they have been texting, he hasn't seen Taemin since the photoshoot in Paris, and he actually  _ wants _ to see him again in person.

A waiter passes by to offer him another glass of red wine, and as Jongin lifts his hand to take one, he spots a certain blonde at the other end of the room, behind the waiter.

Wait.

Blonde.

Taemin is  _ blonde. _

He vaguely remembers Taemin texting him about bleaching his hair again, but  _ Taemin is blonde _ and Jongin forgot—and he can't help but be thrown into a panic for a little bit. Even through the distance, he already knows that Taemin looks amazingly gorgeous with his new hair.

_ Taemin was blonde too, back then. _

The memory only flits through his mind for a second before he shakes it off, suddenly feeling a little too warm all over.

It must be the wine. He already drank a glass earlier, this is his second one, so it  _ must _ be the wine.

Shaking his head once again for good measure, he walks further away from the crowd to lean back against a cold wall, his glass of red wine in hand. It's colder here, with less people taking up the space next to him, but right as he started thinking that he found himself an arguably safe place in the middle of the party, a pair of female models walk up to him, flirty smiles on their faces.

Jongin sighs. He's  _ really _ not in the mood for this.

"Hey, Kai. Long time no see," one of the two girls greets, using the nickname his agency assigned for him when he joined them in the beginning. He used it because it was apparently easier to pronounce than his real name, but nowadays, only strangers or professional acquaintances call him that.

"Why are you standing here all alone?" the other one asks, grinning. "Need some company?"

"I'm here to  _ escape _ most people's company, so no, thank you," he says, trying to be polite, even though he is in no mood to be courteous right now.

"Oh, but how lonely would you be without anyone accompanying you?" the first girl says.

Jongin doesn't even remember their names, to be honest, but these people are  _ not _ getting the hint—or maybe they are playing oblivious—so he can't help but let his eyes dart around the room, finding a way out.

Thankfully, he catches the eye of his savior.

"It's okay, my friend will stay here with me," he points behind the girls to Taemin's figure, who is approaching them with a smile. With a smile, Jongin waves them away in the direction of the crowd. "You should go enjoy the party. I'll see you another time."

It's like Jongin can see the two girls' blood draining when they turn their heads to look behind them. Taemin must be very scary to most models, if he could make these two immediately scurry away with just one glance.

He leans back against the wall, taking a sip of his wine to celebrate a job well done. Good thing he spotted Taemin when he did, otherwise he would be stuck with two girls trying to rope him into a threesome or something.

"Hey there," Taemin finally walks up to him a moment later, with an already half-empty glass of wine in his hand and a teasing grin on his lips. "Did I just chase away your suitors?"

Jongin doesn't answer the question. Instead, he takes another sip of his wine, and returns Taemin's grin with one of his own. "Why? Are you here to try your luck too?"

Taemin laughs. "Should I? I think my luck is pretty good tonight."

Jongin watches as Taemin makes himself comfortable next to him, leaning back against the wall while his lips settle at the rim of his glass. Taemin takes a big sip of his wine, and Jongin still watches as he swallows.

_ Yeah,  _ Taemin's luck is  _ definitely _ pretty good tonight.

"I'm mostly kidding, Jonginnie. Don't think too much into it," Taemin says, after a moment of not-so-silent silence. Jongin was about to comment on the tiny detail he got somewhat fixated on— _ mostly? What was that supposed to mean? _ —when the grin on Taemin's face comes back. "That said, I'd still be happy to take you away from this boring party if you're tired of refusing every person who comes up to flirt with you."

At that, Jongin finally finds the strength to tear his eyes away from Taemin's soft-looking hair and soft-looking lips. He shouldn't stare so much, no matter how attractive Taemin is. It's creepy.

"I'm the face of the brand, you know," he says, letting out a long sigh. "I can't leave this place early even if I wanted to."

"That's why I'm offering to kidnap you,  _ mister face of the brand _ ," Taemin laughs again, before his lips settle into a conspiratorial smirk. "Relax a little. I know the boss, and it's time to be a bit of a rebel."

Jongin blinks at Taemin's confidence, and he can't help but break out into a toothy smile. "Okay then, mister kidnapper. What exactly are you planning on doing to me, after… you know, taking me away?"

"I don't know, maybe a less boring movie night at my place?" Taemin offers, eyebrows quirked up. "I have a huge TV and a lot of soft blankets—plus we can steal some wine from here. It's gonna be fun."

"Honestly, that sounds like a good idea," Jongin chuckles. It sounds like a very comfortable and warm activity, and when he thinks about how exhausted he currently is, it only takes him a split second to make the decision to get out of this party. "But are you not even going to greet your friend first?"

"I will," Taemin answers. "I also have to show my face a bit around here. You'll come with me, right?"

Jongin cracks his neck and shoulders. "I'm pretty sure I've chatted with at least half of these people, but sure. If you need me."

Taemin grins and casually links their arms together. If not for the fact that he was too taken aback by Taemin's cherubic grin, maybe he would have paid more attention to the way Taemin grabbed his arm like they have been best friends for years. But then again, being literally attached to Taemin probably has its perks. Like this, at least no one will approach him to try to get into his pants.

One of these days, though, he will try to figure out why everybody seems so intimidated by Taemin. He really can't understand—Taemin isn't scary; he has been nothing but nice and friendly towards him.

It doesn't take them very long to find Key, his bright aqua suit standing out in the crowd of classic black-and-whites. Jongin was styled by Key himself, which is why he's wearing this… studded choker thing on his neck, above his suit. He doesn't even know how to call it. It looks like the type of collar you would put on a wild dog, but human-sized.

He's also trying not to notice that Taemin has been pointedly ignoring this choker thing on his neck, because it's making him feel a bit self-conscious. Maybe Taemin thinks it's ugly. Jongin can't wait for the party to end—he wants to take it  _ off _ .

"Look who finally decided to show up," Key says with a roll of his eyes as he and Taemin are approach. "And what is this? You went to Jongin before you even greeted me? Traitor."

Taemin laughs and finally unlinks his arm from Jongin's to give Key a hug. "Sorry. Jongin was closer to the entrance, so I went to him first. Is that a problem?"

"Of course it was," Key huffs. "You were supposed to show me a tearful reunion of two friends who were separated for many years. Jongin, you're at fault too for leaving my side. I could swear you were right here but the second I turned my head away you were gone. Did you teleport?"

"It wasn't tearful or anything," Taemin says, before shooting a mischievous grin at Jongin. "I think I got him out of a hard-to-refuse threesome offer."

Jongin chokes. Key blinks, then bursts into laughter. "Good one, good one."

"Anyway," Taemin starts again. "You don't need him anymore, right?"

"Why? Are you gonna give him a hard-to-refuse  _ twosome _ offer instead?"

Jongin almost choked on his wine.

"Not really. I'll just steal him away from your boring party. Along with the bottle of wine you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything—"

"You do! You stole the wine I bought for my aunt at our last vacation!"

"Lies," Key says. "You put it in  _ my _ luggage!"

"Doesn't mean it's yours."

"Whatever you say. Take whatever you need. It's not like you ever ask for permission anyway. Take Jongin, take the wine—do you need condoms? Lube?"

Jongin coughs. He wants to  _ bolt _ out of here. He really did not think they would be joking around like this—in the middle of a party full of investors. Jokes like this is the reason rumors start to go around, because literally  _ anyone _ could hear them, but neither Taemin nor Key seem to care.

"Thanks for offering," Taemin says, grabbing Jongin's arm again, grinning now that he succeeded in 'kidnapping' Jongin. before starting to pull him away. "But Jongin and the wine is enough. Bye!"

-

"Feel free to sit down and pick a movie," Taemin tells Jongin the moment they enter his apartment, gesturing to the huge 88-inch TV mounted on the wall of his open living space, which is very spacious for New York standards. Jongin takes off his multiple jackets—and the damn choker, finally—then does as he was told, taking a seat on the couch in front of the television and wrapping himself with one of Taemin's  _ super soft _ blankets, while Taemin himself walks behind him to the kitchen area.

It doesn't take long for Taemin to come back with their free bottle of wine uncorked, though that's all he brings with him.

"I don't remember where I put my wine glasses," Taemin explains once he sits down, raising the bottle, "We'll just drink it straight out of this."

"Fine with me," Jongin says.

Taemin only has Netflix, and Jongin has watched pretty much every single movie they have, so he just picks a random one. It's an action movie with a splash of romance, one of the ones he likes, but instead of the movie he ends up getting more focused on how warm he feels, with the wine warming up his insides and the blanket wrapping him up in a soft cocoon.

Plus there's also Taemin, whose entire presence is warm, not to mention the way he's sitting pressed up against Jongin's side as if there's no more space on the large couch—but Jongin is trying  _ not _ to think about that, firstly because it only brings up  _ memories, _ and secondly because he does not want to go through another round of Chanyeol teasing him when he finds out what Jongin is currently doing  _ and _ thinking of doing.

"They are really good actors," Taemin says all of a sudden, passing the bottle to Jongin after taking a sip. He has no idea that he zoned out for so long already, because with one glance Jongin could see that they're halfway through the movie. 

"What makes you think that?" Jongin takes another gulp of wine as well, before throwing his head back to rest it on the back of the couch. Apparently he has been zoning out for too long, because that was the last bit of the wine, and they had been constantly passing it around. It's not like he's  _ drunk, _ tipsy at most, but his head is starting to buzz around a little.

"Watching them do  _ that—" _ Jongin takes a glance as Taemin points at the screen, which is showing a pair of enemy spies making out to coax information out of the other. "—kinda makes me want to make out with someone too."

"Mmm, same," Jongin feels like his head was growing lighter as he turns to look at Taemin. Taemin is still gorgeous, even with his blonde locks looking somewhat messy and his beautiful eyes marred with smudged eyeliner, and Jongin's not exactly thinking straight when he lets his loose tongue get ahead of him. "Maybe that means you should make out with me."

He watches as Taemin's head snaps towards his direction  _ so fast— _ too fast for someone who should be as tipsy as Jongin is. His eyes are opened wide as he stares at Jongin, and Jongin has no idea what to make of Taemin's reaction to his impulsive words.

However, before he could take it back, a pair of plump lips is already pressing against his own, swallowing his words whole, and there's a hand running up the side of his neck to rest at the back of his head, pulling him in closer. It takes him a second to realize that Taemin took up the offer and  _ kissed him, _ another second to realize that he's actually kissing  _ back, _ and yet another second to realize that his tongue is literally already inside Taemin's mouth.

Taemin's small hands come down to rest on Jongin's shoulders, gently pushing Jongin backwards—he follows each movement, not having a clue of what Taemin is trying to do, until Taemin suddenly pulls back to get up and sling his leg over Jongin's lap, sitting on him. Jongin can't do anything but groan when Taemin's kissable lips are back against his own, his hands roaming across Taemin's body only to settle on his hips, hooking his thumbs under Taemin's pants, while he lets Taemin slip his hands under his shirt to touch whatever he wanted to touch.

Just as things are getting more heated, Taemin pulls away again, chuckling against Jongin's lips. "I was right. My luck is pretty good tonight."

Jongin responds by redirecting his kisses to Taemin's jaw.

"I didn't plan it, just so you know," Taemin continues, his finger poking at Jongin's chest, adamant on getting a response.

"I know," Jongin says, rolling his eyes. "I don't think you're the type to ever plan anything."

"Well at least not when it comes to you," Taemin grins, a cheeky, toothy one, "I've kinda been wanting to do this though, so I guess I relied on luck for that."

Jongin laughs, moving his hands past Taemin's hips to rest on the curve his ass. "Well, it's a bit sudden, but are you going to push your luck further or not?"

"I don't know," Taemin answers, his breath hitching slightly when Jongin tightens his grip on his ass, pulling him closer. "What do you think?"

"I think," Jongin grinds up, smirking when he feels Taemin's half hard cock against him. "You might need a helping hand."

Taemin raises an eyebrow, then throws his head back laughing as the reference dawns on him.

"Well, if you're offering, I would love a rerun of our last… movie night," Taemin says, his voice dripping with intent, and although Jongin was the first to suggest it, he thinks he might be melting from all the heat under his skin now.

He gulps. "A rerun, you say?"

"Mm-hmm," Taemin's eyebrows quirk, and his hands are slowly moving down from Jongin's shoulder, to his chest, to his abdomen, settling on his hips. "But you know, since we're real adults and everything now… what do you think about continuing?"

Taemin's hand slips under his shirt, rubbing at the skin right under, thumb playing with his belt loop as he grinds down against Jongin—and he doesn't even have to think before he pulls Taemin down into another kiss, tongues entangled in a fiery dance while Taemin's fingers work on the buttons of his shirt. He almost whines when Taemin pulls away, only to let out a groan when Taemin starts kissing him down his neck while grinding against his thigh. He slips his hands under Taemin's now-unbuttoned pants to rest on the curve of his ass and pull him closer, but Taemin pulls them out almost right away, holding his hands as he plants kisses all over his skin—lower, lower,  _ and even lower,  _ until he's getting off Jongin's lap to kneel on the floor, tongue licking and worshipping the two little moles on his abdomen.

"These are the cutest," Taemin remarks offhandedly, caressing the moles while looking up at Jongin—and oh, the sinful thoughts that crossed Jongin's mind the moment their eyes met. It doesn't help that Taemin went back to sucking and licking on the skin there pretty much right away.

"Thanks," he says, his voice breathy, "But don't leave a mark please."

"Yeah I know," Taemin replies. He stops sucking on the moles and moves down again, down, until he's at Jongin's hip.

Then he looks up again, for permission, this time.

"Can I…?"

Jongin can't breathe.

He looks down and he sees Taemin's head—his gorgeous,  _ gorgeous _ face, and those gorgeous,  _ gorgeous  _ lips—between his legs, just a few inches and two layers of fabric away from his dick, and it's so damn surreal he doesn't know what to say.

"Yes," he lets out, almost desperately, as Taemin strokes his thigh. "Yes. Whatever you want, yeah."

He had to hold back before he said  _ please, _ but Taemin doesn't take too long before unzipping Jongin's pants and pulling it down along with his boxer briefs, letting his cock spring out, splayed against his stomach.

"Impressive," Taemin grins, as he touches Jongin with a teasing grin on his lips, wrapping his fingers around him.

Jongin can't  _ think _ anymore; this is throwing him back to all those years ago, making him feel like he's a newbie again. It's not like he has never had sex, it's not like he has never had a guy besides Taemin touching his dick or blowing him, but for some reason Taemin makes him feel like he has electricity running through his veins. He makes Jongin feel like he's alive, makes him feel in ways he has forgotten about, and he doesn't even know  _ why. _

He jolts out of his thoughts with a loud moan when he feels Taemin's lips finally wrapped around his member, taking him in deep, sucking him in, and fuck Taemin is so good at this, so good at using his tongue, so good so good so good that  _ that _ is all he's able to say, on loop, like he has nothing else in his vocabulary.

Taemin pulls away with a smug little pop right as he was about to climax—looking at him as if he knew how good it felt, as if he knew that Jongin was quite literally about to explode just from  _ that. _

"You know," Taemin stands up and climbs into his lap once again, and Jongin suddenly realizes that he's sort of still fully clothed. His pants are unzipped, but his shirt is still intact, while Jongin's pants are literally on the floor, and his shirt is hanging off his shoulders waiting to be shrugged off. He works quickly to fix that, grabbing at the hem of Taemin's t-shirt. "I was about to point out that you still haven't undressed me, but you read my mind."

Jongin slips his hand under Taemin's boxers to grab his cock just to shut him up, but he gets rewarded by a moan. A shamelessly loud one that takes him aback, to be completely honest, because he would never have imagined Taemin to be the loud type.

His mind betrays him, making him think about how loud Taemin would get when he's being fucked, when he's already moaning so loud just from having his dick pumped.

He's glad Taemin wore a t-shirt because he could use one hand to slip it over his head, and get a full view of a perfectly toned body, porcelain skin, along with the most beautiful collarbones he has ever seen. He finds a tiny heart-shaped mole there and returns the favor Taemin gave him, sucking on it and licking, while his hand is pumping his dick.

"Jongin," Taemin gasps, calling his name again when he doesn't stop. "Enough, please, I want—"

Jongin gets it. He can't wait much longer either.

"Where do you keep your lube and stuff?"

"It's in my bedroom," Jongin rubs his thumb over Taemin's slit. "Wait, stop, ah—"

Jongin kisses Taemin again, and plants one last peck on the other's lips before lifting him up to get them both standing on the floor. He extends a hand to take the TV remote and finally switches it off, all without pulling away from Taemin, who is planting kisses all over his jaw.

"Lead the way."

-

When they wake up, it's almost like nothing ever happened—even though  _ everything _ did.

"You're leaving New York tonight, right?" Taemin asks him, voice still groggy with sleep as he sends him to the door at eight in the morning. The blonde is still naked, his hair all messy and his whole figure looking like he doesn't even have the energy to put on a robe after getting out of bed, while Jongin is already fully dressed in what he was wearing the night before—minus the choker that he's holding in his hand. "Are you going to London?"

"Yeah, but I have to go to a shoot first—it's in like, two hours, so," Jongin yawns. They arrive at Taemin's door, and he slips into his shoes fairly quickly as he goes through his schedule for the next few weeks. First there's today's photoshoot, then he'll be on a seven-hour plane ride to London for Men's Fashion Week, then after a few days he'll go to Milan, and then Paris, before going back here. "But I'll be back here next month."

"You'll be in Milan next week, right?" Taemin continues. "The Gucci show?"

"Yeah, I'm walking," Jongin answers, checking his phone to see where his ride is at, as Taemin only hums in response.

They look at each other in silence after that. Jongin  _ just _ started thinking that nothing else will happen before he leaves, that last night was a one-time thing that will never happen again, and that things will be awkward between them, when Taemin shatters his expectations, pulling him down by the head to give him another kiss, deep and passionate.

"I guess I'll see you then," he says, after one last, lingering kiss. "Have a safe flight."

When Jongin leaves the apartment, he feels like he's walking on air.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ages, I know. Enjoy! 6v6

_ " _ _ Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to John F. Kennedy International Airport. Local time is 7:10 AM and the temperature is 72 degrees Fahrenheit. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign…" _

Jongin wakes up from his last-minute nap with a yawn and stretches his arms in front of him. His assistant hands him his usual 'disguise kit'—a black cap and a matching mask, nothing fancy—along with his passport and whatever customs documents he needed filled out.

"Thanks," he murmurs, still not fully awake. He still goes through the movements of putting his cap and mask with practiced ease, though. "Have you changed my SIM card?"

"Yeah, I did it while you were sleeping. Here."

His assistant hands him his phone, and he quickly turns it on, checking for any missed messages. It's mostly just Junmyeon in the group chat, telling them what to do once they get out, where he's waiting, the usual.

No text from Taemin. Yet.

He locks his phone and puts it in his pocket.

"Junmyeon says he's waiting at the front," Jongin says, as his assistant stands up to get their stuff from the overhead bins. 

"Yeah, I read the message," The man hands him one of their bags for him to hold—the Gucci one, of course—and takes out the two roller bags they brought with them. "It's crowded out there today, so we're going straight to the car after immigration. The others are going to handle the baggage claim."

The doors open right as his assistant finished reciting Junmyeon's instructions. Jongin gets up and pulls his mask up.

"Okay, let's go," he says, walking to the exit of the plane. It's early in the summer and the weather outside is pretty good; it's sunny but not hot, and he hopes the weather stays like this for the rest of the day, because if it gets any hotter, today's photoshoot would feel like _ hell. _

Today is the first day of the shoot for Gucci's Fall/Winter campaign, and unless he read the brief wrong, they're putting emphasis on layers this year, meaning that he would probably be sweating in those thick clothes if the weather isn't the best. They're shooting in an old Long Island mansion today—and he's not sure if they have air conditioning installed.

The silver lining to all this is that they are shooting for the print ads first, which means he will be seeing Taemin, who apparently accepted the offer to shoot the campaign ages ago, but thought it would be funny to not tell him until last week. He also hasn't texted him today—the last text in their chat history is Jongin telling him that he's boarding his flight—but that's probably just because he was busy preparing for the shoot.

It's 8 AM when Jongin and his team finally got out of immigration. He goes straight to customs and walks out as fast as possible—a few people had their phones out and he's getting a lot of glances from every angle, so it's not a good idea to stay exposed for long. Some fans welcome him at the arrival lounge, young girls with letters and flowers; he has long since mastered the art of taking the gifts without stopping, and he quickly arrives outside, where Junmyeon and the van waits at the curbside.

"Did people take pictures of you?" Junmyeon asks once he's in the car. The van leaves right away, to go to a parking lot where his two other assistants would be waiting with the luggage. "I saw people tagging your Instagram account while I was waiting.`

"Yeah, I think some people recognized me at customs," Jongin takes off his cap and mask, relieved to finally be able to breathe properly. "It feels like I got more glances than usual, though—everything's okay, right?"

"Nothing major. Your ex talked about you yesterday on a TV show," Junmyeon shrugs. "You probably haven't heard about this yet, since you were on a flight."

Jongin raises one of his eyebrows. "Who?"

"Jennifer. Who else? Her next movie is a romantic slice of life type of thing, and she basically said she took your past relationship as an inspiration for her acting," Junmyeon explains, and Jongin can't help but sigh. He had only dated her for barely a month, and it ended _ years _ ago, but she loves bringing it up everywhere since their little scandal back then made her famous. She made it seem like they lasted longer than a month, kept dragging it on and on even though they weren't even talking. He has been with many people—men, women; actors, models, singers—but none of them had been as annoying as she was, always pestering him to act in front of the public.

"You've been gaining more fans since that Vogue cover last year, and you're also the face of Gucci. I'm assuming she was trying to gain some traction. Again."

"Ignore her," Jongin says, leaning back against his seat. "Just let her do whatever she wants. She's always doing this."

"Well, coincidentally, she has been in New York for the past few days, and she posted some pictures with ambiguous captions after last night's show. Then _ you _ showed up in JFK, so people thought you came here to chase her," Junmyeon says, as if he's holding back his laughter. "The fans are starting to speculate—though of course, there are those few who are still sane. They remember that you're only here to shoot for your Gucci campaign, not to get back together with your ex."

"Fine, then I'll post something at the shoot later for damage control." Jongin sighs again. "What time do we have to arrive at the shoot anyway?"

"Well, you're technically scheduled to come in at around one, but we _ are _ working with the one and only _ Mister Taemin Lee _today, so you may not get to shoot until four, five, who knows. The shoot should have started already," Junmyeon says, huffing. "Speaking of which—you think he'll be fine with it?"

"Fine with what?"

"The rumor. Your ex talking about you on live TV. We were _ just _ talking about it." Junmyeon sees the confused expression on Jongin's face. "You guys _ are _ seeing each other, aren't you?"

Well, now that he's thinking about it, maybe that's why Taemin hasn't texted him.

Actually, no. Taemin's busy with the shoot—he's 99% sure that's all there is to it. He should cut off that train of thought before he starts thinking too much. Besides, Taemin probably doesn't know about these gossipy things. He doesn't even use social media.

"It's not like we're dating," Jongin shrugs, half-thinking out loud for Junmyeon to hear. "He doesn't really have to care."

"Liar," Junmyeon scoffs. "You must think we're all stupid—we're around you all the time, and whenever you're on your phone you're talking to him. And don't even mention how you somehow always try your best to go see him for at least one night whenever you two happen to be in the same city. If he's not your boyfriend, then what is he? Your husband?"

Jongin can't deny that. His friendship with Taemin, if they could still call it that, had taken a slightly unique turn, after that winter night in January. Contrary to Jongin's initial expectations, the things they did that night weren't left behind as just an unforgettable one night stand. He isn't complaining about the way it is now, but back then, he thought that it would be at least a little awkward for some time.

Yet, it turned out that everything stayed the same. They still texted each other every day, sometimes they talk on the phone, exchanging casual banter and talking about work and projects and just life in general.

That was until they met again in Milan Fashion Week ten days later, on his birthday, right after he walked the Gucci show that just happened to be scheduled on that day.

That night, Taemin took him away from the after-party right in front of everyone's eyes, much like he did at the party earlier in the month, brought him back to his hotel suite, and gave him the most unforgettable birthday present he has ever received so far, involving a small cake with cream and strawberries, complete with a topping of a very beautiful blonde photographer named Lee Taemin—who decided to complete his present by riding Jongin's dick until the sun was literally about to rise. It was the most amazing fuck Jongin has ever had, and since once had become twice, it didn't take long for twice to become thrice—only because they did it again the next day, before he left the city—and by the fourth time they end up tumbling in bed together, neither of them bothered to find excuses anymore.

Jongin knows that the industry people are 'talking' about them. It's become some sort of an open secret; something almost every important person in the circle knows about, but none of them would say anything out loud. Just look at his current situation—even his own team is joining the fun. Realistically, it's impossible to expect people _ not _ to talk about them when they haven't been subtle about leaving fashion week after-parties together.

But to make this six-month-long story short, yes, they're texting, and yes, they're _ also _ fucking, but Taemin is still, technically, not his boyfriend. He doesn't really know how Taemin thinks of him, after all. They never really talked about it, plus Jongin is satisfied with the way things are right now.

"He's _ really _ not my boyfriend," Jongin says again, for extra clarification. "We're just friends. _ Really _ close friends."

"Fine. I get it," Junmyeon shoots him a knowing look. "Anyway, I hope your _ friendship _ with him means we don't have to go overtime… They booked you for a whole day, but if you start your shoot at five, who knows what time it will end?"

"Is he really that bad?" Jongin frowns. "How come everyone hates him? It really didn't seem that bad when I worked with him last time."

"It's not like they hate him, but trust me, Jongin-ah, your experience is definitely not the norm," Junmyeon says with a chuckle. "Apparently if you're working with him you should clear at least two hours extra in your schedule—but I didn't hear about this until after your shoot. Good thing Kyungsoo told me before Sehun had to work with him, so I could clear some extra hours from his schedule, because that's exactly how his Zegna shoot turned out. He didn't have a very nice time on that day—though I heard it still wasn't as bad as Chanyeol's experience."

"Ah, right. I remember him telling me that he was shooting with Sehun."

"That Taemin guy told you he was shooting with Sehun—and not the other way around? You sure are very good friends," Junmyeon teases. Jongin rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm sure the Gucci people trust that your parts won't cause or have any delays, but you do have a group shot today and there's no guarantee what the other models are gonna do."

"I guess we'll just see how it goes," Jongin says. "By the way, we're already checked in at the hotel, right? I wanna shower, I feel icky."

"Yes, we have some time. Just be ready by twelve," Junmyeon answers. "And get some sleep for a bit. We're in for a long day."

-

Jongin arrives at the lavish mansion in Long Island at 1 PM sharp, as requested. He doesn't know how they managed to find and rent such a grand mansion for the photoshoot. A huge garden welcomed them as the car gets nearer to the mansion; tall, maze-like hedges on both sides of the road. They were dropped off at the front door while the driver looks for a place to park, and he didn't even need to see the rest of the mansion to know that it perfectly fits the photoshoot's theme—decadent luxury. Right as they walked in the door, they get to a foyer with a grand staircase and a huge chandelier hanging right above them.

"Hi! You're here," a young staff member welcomes them. Jongin sees other staff members going up and down the stairs with clothes and what-not, heading towards a walkway where—he assumes—they were doing the shoot. "I'm Natalie, I'll show you to your dressing room."

"Thank you," Junmyeon is the one who responds. With a smile, Natalie leads them up the grand staircase. "How far behind schedule are you guys?"

"An hour right now, but by the time it gets to your turn, we'll probably be two hours behind schedule, as expected," Natalie says, sighing. "I suggest you go kill some time until we know when you need to get ready. Take a nap, do whatever. You're getting one of the bedrooms for your dressing room—it's furnished, and we got permission for you to use the bed to sleep if you're jetlagged. We got a pretty good selection of food and drinks catered too, you can find it in the lounge next to your room."

They arrive at the dressing room—which is actually just a huge, extravagantly furnished, bedroom—and Natalie shows them where they could find everything, from the dining area, which actually _ is _ right next door, to the bathroom. 

"Can I go watch the shoot?" Jongin asks, out of curiosity. The mansion is so huge that he wouldn't know where they were shooting if nobody guided him.

"Sure, if you want to see your fellow models getting passive-aggressively roasted," Natalie laughs. She explains further that they only got permission to use a few rooms for the actual shoot—the sun room, the dining room, and the blue drawing room—and gave them simple directions for all those areas, although there would be someone guiding them there when it's time to shoot. "Just in case, if you want to take any pictures to upload, don't show too much of the set. We don't want any leaks."

"Understood," Jongin nods. With that, Natalie leaves with Junmyeon to talk about schedule and logistics and whatever Jongin doesn't really need to know, leaving him with his assistants in the dressing room-sans-bedroom. He finds a full-length mirror next to the wardrobe and stands in front of it to take a quick mirror selfie, making sure that not too much of the background is visible before he uploads it to his Instagram, typing _ #gucci _ as a caption.

Damage control—he didn't forget.

"I'm going outside," he says to his assistants, who only respond to him with an _ 'okay' _ while unpacking the stuff they brought.

Jongin heads back to the first floor, half following the instructions Natalie gave him and half just trailing behind the staff members who looked like they were going to whichever room they were shooting in. He finds himself in what he assumes to be the blue drawing room. The large, extravagant, French-inspired room is covered in all shades of blue, from the walls, to the curtains, to the furniture and decorations—although it looked like some of them had been moved aside to make room for lights and equipment. 

They're shooting at the other end of the room, a group of two female models and one male model are posing on one of the many blue sofas. A table is set up discreetly at one corner of the room for monitoring, staff members frowning and shaking their heads as they look at the pictures being taken, and right next to the door Jongin just entered from, a group of three models are talking to each other in hushed tones. Jongin doesn't know them—he hasn't worked with them before—but he does recognize one of the female models currently shooting. He doesn't remember her name, but they have worked together, and he doesn't have a lot of impressions about her besides her trying to make a move on him.

Right now, both she and the male model next to her look royally _ pissed, _ while the other female model is literally crying. It's quite surprising. He had worked with models who had a meltdown behind the cameras before, but never someone who cried _ on _ the set. In front of the cameras. During a shoot.

"...such a crybaby," Jongin hears one of the models in the group standing next to him talk. "He didn't even say anything _ that _ bad."

"Right? It's her fault she doesn't know where to put her hands," someone else says. "He _ literally _ only told her to move her hands."

"Yep, he said it five times—he even specifically told her where to put it and she _ still _ didn't get it. It's not even as bad as the last time we worked with him—remember? He spent thirty minutes telling us to make the hairstyle work just because a _ strand of hair _ made my face have an ugly spot," the first model says with a derisive snort. "How the hell did this girl even land this job?"

The group start laughing together, until one of them notices that Jongin has been standing near them. Jongin smiles in their direction, and they looked like they were about to go greet him—but right at that moment, an assistant approaches them in a hurry to usher them away somewhere.

"We might need to change things up a little bit. He's been in a bad mood since morning and Kat just had to mess up—" Jongin hears the assistant say, before they got too far. He assumes Kat is the female model currently crying on the set.

"Yeah, let's just take a five-minute break and bring the next group in," he hears Taemin's voice over the noise of the studio and almost smiles. It's been a while since he's seen Taemin on the job. He sounds very strict, though, unlike the time they worked together. "You, fix your makeup and focus. Otherwise, don't even bother coming back."

After the art director follows with some words, they all disperse quickly. The crying girl is practically running out the room, passing Jongin as she runs off, but he's more focused on Taemin, who still hasn't moved from his position. He watches as Taemin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his phone. He's probably looking at his notifications, although it doesn't take long before he shakes his head and puts his phone back. When he turns to walk towards the monitoring table, Jongin could still see a trace of a pout on his lips—his mood is obviously very bad, though seeing him like that amuses Jongin, for some reason.

So, he decides to go and greet Taemin in person, since he hasn't even noticed that Jongin was here.

Taemin doesn't see him coming, but the other staff member who is checking photos with him does—if Jongin remembers correctly, he's the fashion director, a friendly and rather gossipy man who probably _ knows things, _ from the sly look on his face once he noticed Jongin coming. Jongin puts a finger on his lips to tell the man to keep quiet, and then he takes the final step to stand right behind Taemin, swiftly jabbing the spot under his ribs where he _ knows _ Taemin is super ticklish. Taemin jolts reflexively, and there's clear annoyance on his face when he just turned around, but everything fades in a split second once he sees that it was Jongin.

Jongin waves and puts a playful grin on his face. "Hey there." 

"Jongin-ah. You surprised me," Taemin huffs. "If you were someone else—"

"Who else would it be? Seems like everyone's scared of you. You even made that girl cry," Jongin quips jokingly, and Taemin chuckles. The fashion director who was talking to Taemin is long gone—he _ definitely _ knows. "Anyway. It's been a while."

Taemin raises an eyebrow and his smile turns smug. "A while? We literally just met up last month in Tokyo."

They did _ indeed. _

Jongin has always been a sucker for people who could speak in foreign languages, and that night Taemin showed him exactly how _ fluent _ he was in Japanese. It was great.

"A month _ is _ technically quite a long time, you know?" Jongin grins, and Taemin snorts at him while lightly punching his chest, although the corners of his mouth are still lifted up.

"You act like we meet every day or something. It's only been a few weeks."

"Well, I haven't seen you as a photographer since the Vogue shoot, so I'm looking forward to working with you again," Jongin relents in the end. "Though maybe I should be scared, you were so fierce over there."

"If all models were like you, I wouldn't have to be so _ fierce," _ Taemin says with a smile. "Just between us, I really can't wait for your turn. My head has been hurting since morning because none of them knew what we wanted to see."

"Then just take it easy and don't pop your veins over every little thing," Jongin suggests. "Not everything has to be perfect."

"Says you, the only other person I know who is as big of a perfectionist as I am," Taemin grins as he gives Jongin a pat on his shoulder, although he doesn't know if it still counts as a pat if he didn't take his hand back immediately. Taemin's small hand trails down his arm in the process of pulling it back, as if he's purposefully feeling up the hard muscle. Seeing how Taemin's formerly teasing grin turn even more mischievous, Jongin _ knows _ that he was doing it on purpose. "Break's over. Feel free to sit on one of the unused sofas if you want. I hope the next ones aren't _ too _ bad."

As the shoot continues, Jongin decides to take the offer and watch for a little bit. It's fascinating, watching Taemin work. Taemin has changed a lot compared to his model days. He used to have this pure, almost angelic aura around him back then, and although Jongin could still see traces of it when they were just talking, once Taemin is behind the camera, he subtly commands the room, coaxing poses, expressions, and reactions out of his models.

Despite his interest in watching Taemin take pictures of the models, it's not long before the jetlag catches up to him. He decides to go back to his dressing room to catch up on sleep—otherwise he wouldn't be able to work at his best today, and he feels like he just _ has _ to be in his best condition to work with Taemin.

He heads straight to the bed once he enters the dressing room, carefully lying down, legs fully stretched out. He pulls out his phone, opens Instagram and scrolls over the comments under his mirror selfie from earlier. Some fans are leaving him nice messages, some are just worshipping his face, some are weirdly concentrating on how his legs look like they are two meters long—he chuckles as he reads those comments—and others are just fighting in his comments, telling people to stop speculating about weird things. Jongin completely agrees with that last bit.

It doesn't take long before he gets bored and closes the app, only to open his texting app. His chat with Taemin appears right on top, so he opens it and types, even though he knows Taemin won't see it until at least another half hour later.

_ Dinner after the shoot? My treat? I'm so hungry :( _

He closes the app, locks his phone, and places it next to him. Now he can get a bit of a shut-eye.

-

When Jongin wakes up, he is immediately ushered to the dressing table, the makeup artists and hairstylists starting to do their work. He isn't completely awake yet, but he's awake enough to take his phone with him, and check the notifications, where he sees a series of texts from one person.

** _6v6_ **

_ Sure, let's leave together _

_ I'll take you somewhere _

He smiles as he locks his phone and puts it face down on the table. _ Now _ he's completely awake. He can't wait to see where Taemin would take him—it would either be somewhere boring or somewhere crazy, there's no in between when it comes to this guy, but Jongin would enjoy it anyway.

The makeup artist needs to put eye shadow on him now, so he closes his eyes and gets his assistant read him the schedule and the setting of the shoot he's going into, to start focusing and get his senses back.

For this campaign, Jongin is supposed to be decadence personified. He represents self-indulgence, luxury, and pleasure, but he also represents decay, immorality, and sin. He lives in a world that is bright and shiny from the outside, yet dark and ruined on the inside—or at least, that is the overall concept. The moment Jongin heard about the concept, he already knew that he would have to pull out a character that is at least a little bit crazy to complete this shoot. He was a little doubtful at first because he didn't expect the campaign to be so _ dark, _ but from the way the art director gushed about how he understood even without his explanation, it seems like they really intended it to be like that.

Well, it is a Fall/Winter collection. It's fine even if it's dark.

"...we are doing the group shot first, so the other models could be dismissed before you start your solo shoot," his assistant says as he summarize what he reads from the schedule, which room he will be doing the shoot and with whom. "The group shot will be with Elle Frank and Marcus Regio. You've worked with Elle before—an editorial for Bazaar magazine, I believe. It wasn't bad. Marcus is somewhat new, you've never worked together before but he's known to be a promising talent."

"Got it," Jongin answers, "I'm going to focus now."

With those words, nobody talks to him anymore, and he closes his eyes to concentrate. He feels makeup being caked onto his entire face, hairspray and gel being applied onto his hair to make them stay in place, and he hears the stylists usher in rows and rows of clothes for him to wear. It's hectic, yet he is used to it, and he focuses much better in this environment.

"Done," he hears the voice of the makeup artist, and he opens his eyes.

The person looking back at him in the mirror is handsome and noble, yet a little crazy and a little twisted, exactly as he envisioned. It's amazing what makeup can do to you, although others would argue that the image was still incomplete—the clothes haven't been worn, and Jongin hasn't fully unleashed his aura.

As he stands up, the stylists immediately bring and put clothes on his body, making sure they are a perfect fit. The layers and layers of clothes are very over-the-top, but they don't look like they are overpowering Jongin's figure—in fact, Jongin knows he makes even the most outrageous-looking article look _ good. _ This is why people book him—this is why he's _ the _ most popular male supermodel right now.

"Are you ready? We need you in the drawing room in five," Natalie enters the room, and Jongin gets ushered by the team down the stairs and to the blue drawing room where he watched the shoot earlier. He is ready for action, and the beauty and power he exudes even as he walks makes every single member of the staff do a double-take when Jongin passes by.

They direct Jongin to stand by at the part of the room they will be using, along with the two other models, Elle and Marcus. Jongin's eyes sweep the room and find Taemin off to the side with the art director, discussing something—they seem quite serious, and Jongin was just about to start getting curious when he was interrupted by a tap on his arm.

"Jongin," Elle says, "It's nice to be working with you again this time."

"Yes, it has been a while," Jongin smiles politely, then turns towards the man standing next to her. He's one of the models he saw earlier, the quieter one who was the first to notice him standing near them. "And you are… Marcus, I assume? I'm Jongin. I look forward to working with you."

"Yes— _ Yes. _ I am Marcus Regio, and um… I'm a model. Obviously. I'm 20 years old this year," Marcus stammers out an introduction, seeming a little nervous. Elle chuckles next to him. "This is our first time working together. And—uh. I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm a bit starstruck—I'm a really big fan of yours."

Jongin laughs. "No need to be polite. We're all colleagues here."

"Yes, please take care of me in this shoot," Marcus tells him, though it's obvious that he's still in awe. He still can't look Jongin in the eye. It's quite adorable.

Then the art director comes over to brief them about the setting, and what they wanted them to do. The three of them are directed to a velvet chaise lounge, and as the main model for this particular shoot, Jongin comfortably takes his spot on the chaise, while the other two adjust around him. Taemin and the art director are very particular about where Elle and Marcus were positioned around him, and it took a few minutes until they started shooting for real.

Jongin is sprawled across the chaise lounge, his layers of clothes spread behind and beneath him. They wanted him to indulge in sin, and tempt others to do it _ with _ him. With each click of the shutter, he moves and leads his partners on to where he wants them to be. Everything seems to be going well—they all know that a silent Taemin is a satisfied Taemin, and the art director looks like he is happy—until Taemin opens his mouth.

"Both of you, get closer to Jongin," Taemin instructs. Elle and Marcus comply immediately, and the shutter clicks don't stop, but somehow, Jongin could _ feel _ that Taemin still isn't satisfied.

"Marcus, your face—closer," Taemin says again. "Elle— You're getting swallowed by the clothes."

Adjustments were made, and the shutter clicks continue. Now that the two other models are in closer proximity, it's easier for them all to cooperate with poses. Jongin's eyes stay in contact with the camera lens as he takes Elle's hand up to his lips, showcasing the long drape sleeve on her outfit. Somewhere off to the side, the art director is screaming _ gorgeous _ and _ brilliant _ at every frame. Then he turns his head to Marcus, on his other side, and reaches his hand up towards the man's chin. The directors are still making a loud fuss over great poses and great ideas, but Jongin noticed that Marcus froze up before he even touched him, and if he could notice, it's obvious that Taemin would have noticed too.

As he expected, it only took two more shots until Taemin lowers his camera and stops shooting.

"Marcus," Taemin starts, his voice measured. "You're supposed to be the personification of pleasure—if he seduces you, you seduce _ back, _ not freeze like a scared rabbit."

"Sorry about that," Marcus says to the entire room, and nods in Jongin's direction too. "I didn't mean to freeze up like that. Sorry. I'm just—really nervous."

"No, it was partly my fault too," Jongin smiles. "Let's cooperate well this time."

The shoot continues—this time Jongin gives a slight pull to Marcus's chin and Marcus follows his lead, so Taemin and the directors seem happy with the result.

There were no more setbacks.

Mostly.

They changed outfits and took some couple shots too—once with Elle and once with Marcus, the latter taking slightly longer because it took a while for him to get used to Jongin's intense gaze being directed straight at him, or at least that was his excuse—before they wrapped up the group shoot, finishing in a record-breaking ten minutes behind schedule. All the staff were happy, the art director is still gushing over the beautiful shots, Taemin seems satisfied, and Jongin is relieved that he only has his own solo shoot left. Working with other models takes so much energy out of him.

The next shoot will be done in a different room, so while the crew moves things around, he goes back to his dressing room. He sits down on one of the sofas and leans back as the makeup artists do touch-ups on his face.

The door wasn't closed, but someone knocked to announce their presence—it was Marcus and a girl, who is probably his assistant.

"Um, Jongin. Hi," Marcus approaches him. "Thank you for your guidance today."

"No problem. It's my job too," he says, with a polite smile. 

Marcus smiles nervously. "Are you free after this? It's nothing much—just, I'd love to treat you to a meal. Or drinks. As a thank you."

Jongin almost raised his eyebrows in surprise. So there _ is _ someone in the industry who doesn't know the rumor about him and Taemin. Even Elle, who had made a move on him the last time they worked together—and clearly wanted to do so again when they met at some party about a year ago because she didn't succeed the first time—behaved in a purely professional way today.

He puts on his most courteous smile and shakes his head. "Ah… Unfortunately, I still have other schedules after this shoot. Sorry."

"Oh, that's okay, then—" Marcus gestures at his assistant next to him, and the girl pulls out a business card for him, that he hands over to Jongin. "Just contact me if you change your mind. The number on the back is my personal cell—if you ever need it."

Jongin takes the card, and only nods, then he smiles and waves when Marcus leaves the room. He sighs and gives the card to Junmyeon, who arrived right as Marcus was leaving, probably to tell him that he should start changing clothes or something.

"What is this…?" Junmyeon asks at first, but he doesn't take long to catch on, and starts laughing. "Wow. This kid asked you out? He has some guts."

Jongin's makeup artist, who is standing next to him, chuckles. "Let's be honest. If he did this at another photoshoot, he would have succeeded."

Jongin raises an eyebrow. "Are you teasing me?"

"You _ know _ he's your type. If _ a certain someone _ isn't right here in this building with you, you would have gone for those drinks and your poor assistant Yunsoo over there would have had to pick you up at his place tomorrow morning," the makeup artist grins playfully. "Actually, maybe he wouldn't even need to ask you out—you would be the one making a move on him."

For some reason, the rest of his team are nodding thoughtfully, agreeing with the makeup artist. They really have no trust in him.

"I'm not _ that _ bad. I wouldn't do that."

"Well, even if you hooked up with him, what's the big deal?" Junmyeon chimes in, then a knowing smirk finds its way to his lips. It's very annoying. "Like you said,_ 'It's not like we're dating. He doesn't really have to care.' _ Direct quote."

Jongin blinks. He never actually thought about it, but that's right—it's not like he and Taemin are dating. Normally, he would do as they said, although it has been a few years since he had a friends-with-benefits sort of relationship. Technically, Taemin probably falls under that category. They never even said they were exclusive.

Maybe Taemin also has other people he sleeps with in between their rare encounters. It shouldn't be a big deal. It really shouldn't.

But.

If it really isn't a big deal, why does it kind of hurt to think of Taemin sleeping with someone else?

He shakes his head. For now, he still has a photoshoot to do, so he has to focus.

"Let's change clothes now." Jongin changes the topic, gets up from the sofa and starts taking off the outermost layer. "I lost my focus because of you guys."

The entire team breaks out into laughter, knowing the conversation is over, but they immediately help him with the clothes.

\--

When Jongin goes back downstairs, he is ushered to the sun room instead of the drawing room they shot most of the other pictures in. Because of all the delays, it's now 5 PM, and the sunlight is much softer than it would be if it had been earlier in the day. The room is smaller than the blue room, with huge, tall arch windows adorned with long, translucent curtains, and the strong wind coming from the hidden fans are making the curtains float lightly. If he positions himself right, maybe he would also be able to use the wind effect to showcase his outfit better. He'll try it later. 

"Ready?"

Jongin feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns around to see Taemin, with his huge camera in hand. He smiles.

"As ready as I could ever be."

"You have four outfit changes and only around two or three hours until sunset," Taemin smirks. "Can you do it?"

"Of course," Jongin smirks back. "If you cooperate, of course."

Taemin laughs. "Okay. Should we just start?"

Jongin is directed into position and Taemin follows behind him. Taemin isn't staying still for this shoot, unlike the previous one that required him to stay in one spot with his tripod. Jongin is also allowed the freedom to move around, and use whatever prop of furniture he wants, as long as he stays in their little area.

Just like the previous time they worked together—just the two of them—Taemin doesn't say much. When Jongin moves, the camera follows, and he trusts that Taemin would capture the angle he intended with his pose. To put it simply, they understand what they want from each other, provoke each other to give and take and _ enhance _ what they take—and it makes Jongin feel a heady rush that he has never felt before, like he's being challenged to fulfill high expectations, baited by a great reward.

And what a reward it is, when Taemin raises his head after monitoring the shots, looking at Jongin with a wide, bright smile on his face that makes his cheeks puff up all the way to his eyes, and says something for the first time in a while.

"Beautiful."

Jongin was so zoned out that he filtered out all the noise around him, and he didn't realize that Taemin has taken all the shots he needed until the stylists and assistants are pulling him away. That was when he _ listens _ again and sees and _ hears _ all the awe they have for him; he hears the art director screaming praises for the shots taken, he sees Junmyeon behind the stylists surrounding him giving him a thumbs up, and he hears the makeup artist speaking while fixing his eyebrows, saying things along the line of _ 'if you keep this up we'll go home early today'. _

Then, he sees Taemin with the corner of his eyes, smiling so hard his cheeks probably hurt, and he realizes something.

It was fun.

Just like the Vogue shoot he did with Taemin last time, today's shoot was _ fun. _ It wasn't boring despite the similar routines; it wasn't predictable despite him understanding everything they wanted him to do. It was fun, exciting, and unlike any other photoshoot he has had in the months that passed after his last shoot with Taemin, or the ones he did before he reunited with Taemin. He didn't feel like a robot machine that was just programmed to stand in front of a camera and pose.

Now, he's starting to realize that maybe, just _ maybe, _ it has more to do with the _ person _ behind the lens, than the shoot itself.

Maybe, this, working with Taemin, is what will make him feel _ alive _ again.

\--

"You know, when you said you were going to take me somewhere, I thought you meant an actual outing. Not your apartment," Jongin says, holding two boxes of New York pizza while Taemin tries to open the door to his SoHo apartment.

"I _ did _ take you on an outing," Taemin grins, unlocking the door and holding it open for Jongin. "We lined up and bought takeout pizza from my favorite pizza place. And we even met the owner!"

"Who absolutely adores you and decided that he would give you an extra pizza," Jongin repeats what Taemin kept saying on their drive back, and when he sees Taemin raise one of his eyebrows, he adds, _ "And _ a side of chicken wings."

"Your _ favorite _ chicken wings, actually," Taemin adds, locking the door behind him. "I'm awesome and you know it."

"Yes, yes you are. Even though I paid for the meal," Jongin rolls his eyes and places the boxes on the coffee table before plopping down on Taemin's sofa. "I'm not supposed to be eating this much, you know. I'm a _ model. _ My agent's gonna be so mad."

"Relax, you can eat an entire pizza _ and _ chicken wings—it's not gonna make you fat," Taemin says from the open kitchen, where he's rummaging through his kitchen cabinets to find something. "Besides, you said you were hungry."

"If I gain weight I swear I'm taking you to the gym with me tomorrow morning at 5 AM," Jongin replies, before he succumbs to temptation and picks up a piece of chicken wing.

"Sure, sure, whatever you want, darling," Taemin chuckles as he turns around to face Jongin. "So. It looks like I only have whiskey here. Do you want that or just Coke?"

Jongin mumbles around his second piece of chicken wing. He really _ is _ hungry. It has been ages since he indulged in such a high-calorie meal. "Whatever you're gonna be drinking is fine."

"Hmm? But I thought you don't drink alcohol," Taemin smirks, cheekily teasing him. "Besides at social events, where you actually _ have _ to."

Jongin rolls his eyes, but he's smiling because Taemin remembers that little detail. "Then just give me Coke."

"That's what I was going to drink anyway," Taemin says, grinning, bringing the huge bottle of coke and two glasses to the coffee table. "No alcohol tonight, we have to be up early tomorrow."

"Good call," Jongin replies, finishes up his wing and grabs a slice of pizza while Taemin pours the soda into their glasses. "Wow, this pizza _ is _ good."

"See? I told you. It's much better than going out to some random fancy restaurant, isn't it?" Taemin gets super smug about the smallest things. His face just smushes up like… Jongin can't even describe it, but it's absolutely Adorable, with a capital A. Then Taemin grabs the remote from somewhere behind the sofa cushions and turns on his TV. "Netflix? Or Spotify?"

"Netflix?" Jongin shrugs, speaking in between bites of pizza. "Let's watch a horror movie. You liked those, right?"

"Ugh, I do, but I get scared so easily these days. I don't know why," Taemin says, but he still searches for a horror movie and plays the first one that comes up.

"It's just gonna end up being background noise anyway," Jongin laughs, then opens his arms wide. "But if you need me, scaredy-cat, I'm always up for a cuddle."

It's Taemin's turn to laugh—one that he doesn't cover with his hand for once.

"Aww, thank you." After picking up a slice of pizza to bring with him, Taemin basically throws himself right into Jongin's arms. "I've never been the type to reject cuddle offers."

"Oh, really?" Jongin teases, raising one of his eyebrows. "You must cuddle with a lot of people then."

"Hmm, well, recently there's just you," Taemin says, tucking himself under Jongin's arm and making himself comfortable, while Jongin wraps his other arm around Taemin's middle. "You, on the other hand… You probably have a lot of people you cuddle with."

"Not really," Jongin frowns. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know? I just…" Taemin lets his sentence trail off, shrugging. "Like, to be completely honest, I didn't even think you'd want to hang out with me tonight."

Jongin pulls away slightly, just so he can look Taemin in the eye. "What? Of course I want to be here. What else would I do?"

"Who knows?" Taemin avoids his gaze, looking at the TV screen instead. "You were with me the entire day—maybe you have other people you want to spend time with."

"That's ridiculous," Jongin shakes his head. "I don't have any other friends here or anything."

"Are you sure? People were talking about you going to see your girlfriend on Instagram."

"You saw that stupid mess? I don't have a girlfriend, I haven't even seen that girl in years—" Jongin says, before he noticed something else. "Wait, you have Instagram?"

Taemin rolls his eyes. "I don't live under a rock, of course I have Instagram. It's private, though."

Jongin blinks. He searched high and low for Photographer Lee Taemin's identity back then and didn't find anything on social media—but now Taemin says that he has _ Instagram? _

"What's your username? I'll follow you right now," Jongin pulls out his phone and opens Instagram directly, signing in to his private account before handing his phone over to Taemin. "I thought you didn't have an account—I actually _ searched _ for it, you know?"

"You don't follow anyone on Instagram though," Taemin says, but he takes the phone anyway, typing his username onto the search bar, and then handing it back.

"Not with _ that _ account, I'm following you with my private one. Only my closest friends and family are on this one," Jongin says.

Taemin's username is very obscure. His profile picture is just a picture of a flower field, instead of a picture of himself, and he only has his initials on his display name. _ No wonder it's so hard to find, _ he thinks as he presses follow. Taemin takes out his phone and taps his screen, probably to accept his follow request and follow back, because Jongin also gets the notification. Jongin doesn't take long to accept the request and scrolls through Taemin's very few followers—unsurprisingly, he doesn't recognize any of them—while Taemin does the same.

"Your girlfriend isn't following you?" Taemin's voice breaks the pause in conversation.

"Like I said, I don't _ have _ a girlfriend," Jongin repeats. "The closest thing I have to a 'girlfriend' right now is you, and you're a _ man." _

Taemin snorts at him, but instead of pointedly ignoring his attempt of eye contact earlier, this time he looks at Jongin, and Jongin can clearly see how he's trying not to smile—but failing—as they both take another slice of pizza.

It's hard not to think about what _ this _ means—how bothered Taemin seems by this whole 'girlfriend' thing, how he's obviously happy now that Jongin has cleared it up. Even so, Jongin pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, and takes a huge bite of his pizza in a bad attempt to distract himself.

Next to him, Taemin is chewing his food like a squirrel, and Jongin realizes that he never noticed how cute Taemin looks when he's eating. Taemin right now looks very different from how he looked during the day, when he was running the photoshoot, but Jongin also knows that he _ can _ flip back to that mode anytime he wants, and of course, it's that knowledge that his mind and body are sort of... _ reacting _ to.

"Hey, Jongin-ah," Taemin speaks again, after he's done with his pizza. "If you don't have a girlfriend, what's up with all that talk anyway?"

"We're still on that topic?" Jongin huffs, taking the last bite of his pizza and swallowing before he explains. "We went out a few years ago. It wasn't that serious, really. She thought I was hot, I thought she was pretty, it was just that kind of thing. We barely lasted a month and we only went out on a couple dates, but she played it up in the public to make it seem like we were together for longer than that."

"That sounds...both annoying and pitiful, actually."

"Well, definitely no pity from me. It's just trouble I keep having to solve," Jongin shrugs, sighing. "I mean, I've had my share of lovers, but no one else came to make trouble."

Taemin hums, and Jongin can kind of feel him leaning slightly closer against his chest. "I did hear that you're not exactly the most… conservative with that kind of stuff."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I meant— Well, people talk. They say it's not hard to get you to sleep with them, as long as you think they're attractive enough," Taemin says, his tone flat. Jongin can't decipher anything from it. "You're not shy to continue socializing in bed, is basically what they say."

Jongin is honestly not surprised that people think of him that way—because it's _ true, _ to a certain extent—but for some reason, he never expected to hear this from Taemin. Somehow, it kind of hurts to think that Taemin might also see him that way.

"Do you think I'm like that, too?"

Taemin doesn't answer, not really. "I don't know, but it's obvious you've slept with a lot of people. Today, after your group shots, the crew were taking bets on which of them you would go home with tonight."

"Seriously?" Jongin snorts. "Who had more bets?"

"Probably the Marcus kid," Taemin says. "Apparently, your makeup artist said he was your type."

"Why does she keep _ saying _ that?" Jongin groans. "Look, he's cute and everything, I'll admit that—but that doesn't mean I would just, sleep with him, directly. I'm not _ that bad. _ Okay?"

"I get it. I'm not questioning you or anything. Besides, the only reason I knew about this is because the directors joined the bet by adding in another name—and they won a lot of money." Taemin chuckles. "They texted me when we were at the pizza place."

"Those old fogeys. I can't believe them." Jongin rolls his eyes. "Why didn't _ you _ join the bet? You knew we were going home together. Might as well get some cash and split it with me."

Taemin raises one of his eyebrows. "Seriously? You wanted me to announce to the entire staff that we have a dick appointment tonight?"

"Well, do we?" Jongin smirks. "We went home together, but we're just sitting here eating pizza."

"Oh, shut up." It's Taemin's turn to roll his eyes, this time. "We both know how tonight is going to end."

Jongin grins and grabs his next slice of pizza, looking straight at Taemin.

"Yep, eating pizza."

They both break out in laughter at the joke that isn't even much of a joke. For a while, they just sit there on Taemin's sofa, all snuggled up together, while eating and watching the neglected horror movie still playing on the huge screen.

It's nice, hanging out like this with Taemin—just sitting, talking about anything and everything, from serious things to stupid unfunny jokes. He wants to do this every day; to wind down exactly like this after every single day of fully-packed schedules, _ with _ Taemin. He likes how they could also sit there in silence, how they enjoy each other's presence even without talking. He hasn't really experienced this with anybody else, and he definitely _ doesn't _ want to think about what that implies, but he does anyway.

The thought keeps coming up since he landed in this city, but after their conversation just now it's hitting him in full force. Jongin doesn't even know if Taemin cares, but he doesn't want Taemin to think that he's sleeping with others. He shouldn't feel this way—they're not dating, and their arrangement isn't even _ exclusive, _ not that they've talked about it—but he just doesn't want to hurt Taemin, even though he doesn't know if Taemin cares enough to get hurt anyway.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that maybe, it's _ him _ who doesn't want to get hurt—because his heart aches whenever the thought that he isn't the only one Taemin sleeps with comes up.

"You okay?" Taemin asks, still munching on some food. "This movie isn't that scary after all. What did I even turn on?"

"I'm fine," Jongin answers a beat late. "Just… thinking."

"About?"

Taemin leans his head back against Jongin's shoulder and looks up—and suddenly their faces are so close, Jongin can't think.

"Nothing, really," Jongin brushes it off. "Just wondering if you also had a nonexistent girlfriend somewhere to worry about, since you brought up _ my _ nonexistent girlfriend."

Taemin chuckles, and his head goes back to the normal position, thankfully.

"Curious, huh?" Taemin starts by teasing first, but answers seriously anyway. "Not exactly. I don't have much of a dating history—flings and hookups, sure, but no serious relationships or anything."

"I see."

"Yeah," Taemin continues. "I started working really young, as you know, so I didn't have a lot of people my age around. When I was sort of aware of love and sex and all that kind of stuff, I was so busy I couldn't even find time to breathe, let alone find a girlfriend. So I only kind of dated a girl once when I was 18, and it didn't last long because she thought I was prettier than her."

Jongin chuckles. "You were very pretty back then."

"I know, right?" Taemin smirks. "But that's basically it. I haven't really dated anyone after that; no girlfriend _ or _boyfriend—I worked my ass off for a few more years, then I quit. After quitting I had more free time, but I wasn't really interested in relationships, so I just kind of, you know. Experimented. With other people."

The mere thought of Taemin _ experimenting _ with other people hurts—he understands it, he has done the same himself, but he can't help but feel his blood boil. Just a little.

Even so, Taemin brought up something else that is more important, and that Jongin is more curious about than the flings Taemin has had in the past.

"Why did you quit?" Jongin asks. "I've always wanted to ask you this if I had the chance, but I forgot about it for so many years."

Taemin smiles. It's a wistful smile, as if he's reminiscing.

"We're going for the hard questions now?" Taemin says. "Well, the easy answer is that I've always liked standing behind the camera better than standing in front of it."

Jongin raises one of his eyebrows. "So you quit something you were excellent at, just like that?"

"You're talking like I'm not good at taking pictures," Taemin replies with a frown. "Excuse you, but I'm also a very excellent photographer."

Jongin almost panics. "That's not what I meant, you're good at that too, I was just—"

"Kidding," Taemin grins. "I know that's not what you meant.

"….Don't mess with me," Jongin huffs, pinching Taemin's upper arm with the hand he still has over Taemin's shoulder.

"Your fault for asking such a serious question," Taemin sticks his tongue out at Jongin childishly, and Jongin pouts.

Taemin is dancing around the question, like he doesn't want to truly answer it, and it's plainly obvious to Jongin. 

"You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable with telling me," Jongin says, after Taemin doesn't provide any additional explanation.

He's curious, but if Taemin truly doesn't feel comfortable answering, then he's not going to force him. Maybe he will never know—and that's fine, he will just take it as Taemin quitting because of a whim. They sit there, watching the horror movie finish up with what seems to be the last scene, and they stay silent even as they watch the credits roll, that is, until Taemin speaks up.

"I got kicked out of my family," Taemin says. It's been at least ten minutes since they last spoke, but he's continuing the thread of conversation. "My parents found out I liked guys. They tried to make it stop by locking me up in my bedroom for _ months. _ I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, or see anyone except my immediate family. They wouldn't let my agent come anywhere near me—they thought the fashion industry _ ruined _ me. But as you see, the locking up method didn't succeed. I still liked guys, so they kicked me out. Disowned me, practically."

Jongin almost froze. He didn't expect it to be so… bad. Now he feels guilty for asking.

"I'm so sorry, Taemin-ah."

"It's not really a big deal. Either way, I was pretty tired of seeing my face everywhere and getting recognized wherever I go, so it was a good time to quit. Thankfully I didn't break any contracts, so at least I didn't lose any money," Taemin continues with a bitter smile. "My parents… well, they just refused to listen. I mean, I'm bi, I like girls _ and _ guys, so I told them that, but they still thought it was weird. You know, even I didn't know I was bi until, like, a few months before they found out. Before that, I've only ever liked girls—like that one girl who thought I was prettier than her."

Jongin can't help but tighten his hold on Taemin just a little bit, pull him just a slight closer, for comfort.

"Then," he starts. "How did you find out? Did you just wake up and figured out you liked guys too, one day?"

"Hell no! Of course not," Taemin laughs. "I went to this photo shoot, and met this super hot guy my age and became friends with him."

"Oh."

Jongin himself has always been attracted to men and women since he knew what attraction was. He found the girls in his school attractive and had his share of innocent teenage crushes, but he also liked to secretly look at the hot guys with nice muscles in the sports teams and wonder what it would feel like to kiss them.

If he had to be honest, though, the one person who actually drove his little bisexual hormones crazy was this man he had in his arms right now. Teen model Taemin's androgynous charms did _ incredible _ things to teenaged Jongin back then.

"Just oh?" Taemin quips with a teasing tone. "He was _ really _ hot, you know. All sun-kissed golden skin and dark hair, with a good personality to match."

"You liked him?" Jongin asks, even though he was getting a little annoyed again at the thought that younger Taemin had a crush on this guy. He really needs to keep himself in check.

"Well, yeah," Taemin says with a grin. "We kind of spent a week watching movies together in my bed every night. It was great. We even jerked each other off, on our last night—though I had to leave early the next morning because of my packed schedule, and we didn't see each other until many years later."

Jongin blinks.

"….Oh."

"Yeah."

"That's…" Jongin swallows. "You're talking about me, right?"

Taemin quirks his eyebrows. "Who else would I be talking about?"

"I… well, who knows?" Jongin is actually starting to blush in embarrassment. He can't believe he almost got annoyed at his younger self. "Maybe you did the same exact thing with another guy?"

"Mm, don't think so. Why? Jealous?"

Taemin teases with his smug grin planted on his face, and Jongin schools his face into a deadpan expression.

"What? No way."

Taemin laughs. It gets a little awkward, with Jongin fixating on how his earlier question was basically asking if Taemin liked his younger self and Taemin actually answered _ yes. _ He never thought that Taemin actually _ liked _ him; he always just assumed Taemin was an adventurous young man who liked to try out stuff. Taemin just seemed so… confident. All the time. 

"Anyway. Yeah. That happened. After the whole kicked out thing, Jinki-hyung—the photographer, you might know him—took me back to New York. He's actually my cousin, he took my first picture as a model, and well, I wanted to learn photography from him in the first place; I didn't know I would hit it big just because he made me model for him once," Taemin continues, breaking the pause. "Since I basically already disappeared for months anyway, I thought I'd just retire as a model and really go into photography instead. I took classes, got certifications here and there, and even sort of went to college. Then Jinki-hyung introduced me to Key, who recommended me for that one Gucci photoshoot, and now I'm here, as photographer Lee Taemin."

"Did people not recognize you?"

"Of course they recognized me. People always say I have a lot of connections, and that's true because I've worked with pretty much everyone before. All the staff who were really nice to me when I was younger have moved up to become someone important," Taemin says. "That doesn't make it easier though. They know I have skills as a model, but they don't know about me as a photographer. I had to prove myself many times before I got their trust. But nowadays, the newer models I work with don't always know my background. Though I don't blame them—I look pretty different now compared to when I was modeling."

"Sounds rough," Jongin comments, but he can somewhat relate with the newer models. The information he could find about Taemin online isn't very comprehensive. He didn't even know Taemin the photographer and Taemin the model were the same person. Maybe he should tell someone to edit Taemin's Wikipedia page. 

"How about you? How are you doing?" It's Taemin's turn to ask, and Jongin doesn't know how to answer. He feels like he shouldn't use his usual perfunctory answer, but he's not sure how Taemin would react if he tells the truth.

"Honestly?" Jongin asks back, to make sure. Taemin nods. "I'm bored. Really bored."

At first, Jongin thought that Taemin would ask why he's bored—why he isn't enthusiastic about his job—but he didn't. Instead, Taemin only laughs, and shoots a smile directly at Jongin.

"I get it. I was bored too."

It's just a simple sentence but it makes Jongin's heart swell. Finally, someone understands—fully understands. Every time he answers a question like that this way, people would tell him to appreciate what he's got, because there are others who would kill to have what he has. He has never met anyone who could honestly tell him that they have been through the same thing and understand what he's going through.

"That's part of the reason why I just didn't go back," Taemin adds. "I was already sick of living under the spotlight, and the jobs—they always gave me the same old 'pretty boy' concept that I've already done before. I can't improve because I never got a challenge. Besides, my dream was to go into photography in the first place, so I just did that."

"It's not like I don't like my job," Jongin clarifies. "It's my dream job, being a model. I love modeling—"

"—But it still gets a little boring," Taemin finishes.

Jongin smiles. "Exactly. Which is why I'm glad I met you again."

"Oh?" Taemin's interest is piqued. "I'm not boring?"

"Well, yeah? I don't know. It's different, shooting with you," Jongin says, avoiding Taemin's eyes. He feels his cheeks heat up, like this is something he shouldn't really share with the person himself. "Shooting with you is… inspiring, to say the least. Challenging. It makes me want to try to do my best, and then better than my best."

"That's…" Jongin peeks at Taemin to gauge his reaction, and sees him gaping. "I'm… flattered, Jongin."

"I mean it," Jongin continues, this time looking straight at Taemin, because he doesn't want to miss how the pink is creeping up to Taemin's round cheeks, and then his ears. "You just somehow pull the best out of me, and then make it even better. I don't know how you do it. It makes me want to work with you _ all the time." _

"Well, I feel the same, but we can't do that, can we?" Taemin laughs, seemingly flustered from the compliments.

Jongin smirks. "I don't know, should I hire you as my personal photographer?"

"Maybe you should," Taemin stops laughing, only to send Jongin a cheeky wink. "If you can afford me, that is. I'm expensive."

Jongin laughs. He knows this would never happen—they're both freelancers, it won't do to just stick to one thing—but it's good to daydream out loud sometimes, right?

He shifts his body—and Taemin's too, by default, since Taemin is leaning against him—and wraps his arms around Taemin's stomach, hugging him from the back, then dropping his forehead onto Taemin's shoulder. He feels Taemin's arm move, and the next moment there are fingers stroking his hair. It really does feel great, spending calm moments with Taemin like this. If he can't have him as his personal photographer, maybe he can do something to have him like this all the time.

"I'm not kidding, you know," Jongin says, softly. The room is quiet, the movie's credits roll long since finished, and he's sure Taemin would hear him even if he mumbles. "I'd love to have you as _ my _ photographer, but we can't really do that."

"I know," Taemin responds, just as softly. "I really like working with you too. You _ get _ me, and that makes me happy—but you know that already."

Jongin's mind flashes back to the look he saw on Taemin's face earlier today, how he looked so happy with the result of their work, how he was smiling so hard his cheeks were lifted up into two tiny squishy-looking balls right by his eyes, how Jongin saw pride in his eyes when he looked straight at him and said _ beautiful. _

"I don't remember if I've told you this... Normally, I'd be sick of photographers noisily praising me all through a photoshoot—but it felt kind of good, for some reason, when it was you yelling praises at me from behind the camera," Jongin starts again, shifting his position so his chin is resting on Taemin's shoulder. "Well, one praise—we didn't talk much during the shoots. Again."

"Oh?" Jongin doesn't even have to see Taemin's face to know that he has a teasing grin on it. He's probably about to say something— "So you have a praise kink?"

He knew it.

"How did we even get to that all of a sudden?" Jongin chuckles. "I didn't mean it like _ that." _

Taemin laughs out loud; the hiccup-y kind of laugh that Jongin loves to hear.

"I'm just playing around," Taemin says, still laughing. Jongin pokes Taemin under his ribs as a small revenge, and he twitches and yelps reflexively, but doesn't move away from the embrace they're currently locked in. "But if you do have it, just tell me so I can… make use of it."

"Yah, Lee Taemin. What are you planning?"

"I don't know… planning on praising you?" Jongin can practically _ hear _ the smirk in Taemin's voice. "That is… if you can be a good boy for me."

"Oh my god. Please don't." Jongin buries his face in Taemin's shoulder again. This is embarrassing—though he doesn't know what's more embarrassing, the way Taemin is teasing him, or the fact that he actually _ is _ getting turned on from this.

"You sure? I would praise you all night long if you ask me to."

This time Jongin can hear that Taemin is just one step short from breaking out into another bout of laughter, and he's pretty sure that if he could look at himself in the mirror right now, he would see a completely red face.

"Shut up," he mumbles into Taemin's shoulder.

If Jongin actually _ does _ have a praise kink, he never knew until today. Taemin is definitely the one who awakened it. He will blame Taemin for this.

"That's not a nice way to talk," Taemin says, the fingers that left his hair started carding through it again—and then _ yanked _. Jongin almost let out a moan from that. This, he knows he likes. Fuck. "What a naughty boy. Are you trying to get punished instead?"

He finally lifts his head and pulls back slightly. "Are we really doing this?"

"Well, you tell me," Taemin turns his head back and grins. The hand that was not on Jongin's head is now on Jongin's thigh, slowly moving dangerously close to his dick. "I'm not the one getting _ hard, _ Jonginnie."

"Oh, fuck you." Jongin didn't even realize how his body was reacting until Taemin pointed it out.

"Nuh-uh, I think _ I'm _ doing the fucking tonight." Taemin is clearly enjoying Jongin's misery. "I know a bunch of praises in many different languages too—you're going to _ love _ that."

Jongin snaps.

He pulls Taemin into a kiss; hot and rough, all lips and tongue and teeth, nothing gentle at all. Taemin shifts them to a better position and lies down on the couch, bringing Jongin on top of him, their lips never separating, and Jongin feels Taemin's hands squeezing his ass, bringing him closer and pressing their clothed dicks together.

"Take your shirt off for me," Taemin murmurs in between all the kisses and the grinding.

The tone reminds Jongin of Taemin's commanding presence earlier during the shoot, and that makes him feel hot and bothered for some reason. He pulls his shirt over his head, and feels Taemin's eyes raking over his body.

"Gorgeous," Taemin says, and Jongin's dick twitches.

So he _ does _ like this. He didn't know he could still learn something new about himself after so many years of living.

Taemin's hands are roaming across Jongin's torso, tracing every dip and swell of muscle on his abdomen with appreciative eyes.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," Jongin couldn't help but say with a grin. He didn't expect Taemin to look up in surprise.

"You'd let me do that?" Taemin asks, and Jongin can't tell if he's seriously asking or not.

"Maybe next time," Jongin finally answers. "If you want to."

"I'll hold you to that," Taemin smiles before pulling Jongin down for another filthy kiss. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about how amazing you would look if I took a picture while we fuck. Your expressions are just out of this world—ah, sorry, occupational hazard."

"Does that count as praising me?" Jongin laughs and peppers kisses down Taemin's jaw, while his hands slip under Taemin's black shirt, wandering upwards. "Can I take this off?"

Taemin hums his agreement, only moving his arms to let Jongin pull off his shirt, then his hands go back to where they were before, roaming on Jongin's body. Jongin continues kissing down Taemin's long neck, going down even more, stopping on his collarbone to nibble on his favorite spot—the heart-shaped mole—until Taemin pushes him up, bringing them both back up to a sitting position.

"Blow me," Taemin whispers in his ear. Jongin shudders. "Do a good job so I can praise you."

What can Jongin do other than comply?

He gets up from the couch without much of a fuss and down to the floor, kneeling between Taemin's spread legs. He runs his hands up Taemin's thighs until he reaches the belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his jeans with ease. Taemin helps him slip his jeans off only by lifting his butt, then lets Jongin do the rest, not caring that the pricey pants are on the floor, pooled around his ankles.

Taemin is wearing boxer briefs under his jeans, and now the outline of his still-clothed hard-on is very clear to Jongin's eyes. He places his hand over Taemin's clothed dick and grips it, palming it softly, hearing a soft groan coming from above. He pulls Taemin's briefs down, letting his cock spring out from its constraints, and doesn't waste any time before he slowly licks up from the base to the top. Taemin moans as Jongin takes the head into his mouth, moans louder as he suckles on it before fully taking him in. Taemin's fingers are in his hair, Jongin can feel him threading through the strands and guiding him as he bobs his head up and down, making Jongin take him deeper and deeper with every move.

"Look up here," Taemin says, right as Jongin could feel his cock at the back of his throat, and although he's already having a hard time splitting his concentration between sucking Taemin off, listening to every single one of his breathy moans _ and _ his own dick straining against his own very tight pants, he still looks up, trying his best to fulfill Taemin's request. "Yeah, you're so beautiful like this. Remind me to take a picture next time."

If his dick was just straining against his pants before, now it feels like it's about to burst out.

He suddenly remembers how the other models would get frustrated when Taemin told them what to do, and he couldn't disagree more. This whole thing—Taemin telling him what to do and then praising him—is turning him on so much; though maybe that's a good reason to ask Taemin not to do this when they're on set shooting something, or else he would think back to this moment and then he'd have to deal with a hard-on for the rest of the shoot.

Thinking must have made him go still for a second, because Taemin yanks on his hair slightly and makes him _ move _ until he has had enough.

"Wait here," Taemin pulls Jongin off his dick and gets up from his seat before walking away, leaving him alone in the living room. Taemin went into his bedroom, probably to take their...necessities, so while waiting, Jongin takes his pants off and sprawls on Taemin's couch fully naked, stroking his cock to keep it hard and ready to go—not a difficult thing to do, considering how turned on he is right now. 

It doesn't take long for Taemin to come back, bringing lube and condoms with him. The moment their eyes meet, Jongin decides to put on a show—throwing his head back, stroking his dick slower, licking his lips, moaning Taemin's name—and the appreciation doesn't go missed.

"You really are gorgeous, you know that?" Taemin tells him as he sits back on the couch, wrapping one of his hands around Jongin's cock to take over from him, while the other pulls him into another hot kiss, all tongues and messy bites. "The most beautiful man I've ever seen."

Taemin's hand wanders down from his cheek to his nape, then down to his shoulders, before finally arriving at his chest. Jongin lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan as Taemin rubs his nipple and gives it a pinch, rolling the bud around between his fingers.

"Fuck, Taemin," Jongin can't help but curse. His nipples are _ sensitive. _ "Don't— don't press it too hard."

"Why? Is this too much for you?" Taemin smirks, and rubs his nipple again before just diving in with his mouth, licking and sucking on the other bud. He's clearly enjoying the mess Jongin is turning into, the way he's pumping his dick and stimulating his nipples and Jongin shuts his eyes; he can't even keep his own moaning and cursing down anymore.

Jongin is sure Taemin's neighbors would hate him. Good thing this floor only has one other unit.

"Taem—ah, please, just—"

Taemin must have read his mind, because before he even finishes what he was about to say, he feels slicked fingers pressing against his entrance. Taemin presses one finger inside him slowly, easing him into it as if he _ knows _ that it has been a while since Jongin bottomed—and well, he actually does know, because the last person to fuck him in the ass was _ Taemin, _ and that was when they met up in London a couple months ago.

He gets stretched out good by Taemin's fingers—they're not the longest, but they are thick, and by the time Taemin is thrusting three of them inside him, he feels so _ full _ and the stimulation almost gets too much, because of course Taemin, ever the multitasker, could finger-fuck him while pumping his dick _ and _ sucking his nipples. He can't even keep his head up anymore; he has to prop it with the arm of the couch. If he doesn't concentrate he's going to _ cum, _and he doesn't want to yet.

"Wanna ride me?" Taemin stops all his movements and whispers, the question sounding more like a demand than a request.

_ "Yes," _ Jongin answers breathily, almost desperate, feeling all wobbly as he gets up from his position, reaching over for the condoms Taemin brought with him. He is sure he doesn't look very beautiful as he hurriedly rips the packaging open with his teeth and rolls it onto Taemin's dick.

"Hey, slow down, giant baby bear," Taemin chuckles, sitting while leaning against the back of the couch as Jongin gets up to get on his lap. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Jongin doesn't really care anymore, honestly. He just wants Taemin to fuck him already at this point, and that's all he thinks about as he generously lubes up Taemin's cock and then sinks down on it. They groan simultaneously at the sensation, and Jongin starts rolling his hips as Taemin bottoms out.

Taemin makes good on his promise to praise him in all sorts of different languages, and it gets him feeling so _ hot _ and desperate that he doesn't even know how he could still have himself together enough to keep bouncing on Taemin's dick. 

Somehow, Taemin knows that, and he tightens his grip on Jongin's hip, making him stop so he could direct him to lie down on the couch instead. Taemin doesn't waste any time before he props Jongin's hips up and roughly thrusts into him, hitting his prostate in one go, making him moan so loud it was practically a scream.

Whether it's riding him or thrusting his cock inside him, Taemin always does magic with his hips. Jongin is almost literally seeing stars at this point—how could he be so _ good? _

"Why, thank you," Taemin answers out of nowhere.

"Did I— ah, fuck, did I say that out loud?" Jongin breathes out in between groans from Taemin thrusting into him. "Fuck, God, Taemin, I can't—"

"You did say it out loud," Taemin chuckles, his hips not stopping, and still accurately hitting that spot inside Jongin every time he thrusts.

Jongin could say he _ loves _ how calm Taemin is when he's the one doing the fucking, and how he does a complete 180 when he's getting fucked, turning into a complete, loud moaning mess. It's pretty similar to how Jongin is right now, but that's more because Taemin is so deep inside him and touching him and kissing him _ everywhere _ and _ anywhere _ except his dick and he really just wants to _ come already. _

"You look so hot when you're desperate like this," Taemin says, his voice rough and gravelly. "Completely stunning."

"Then just—ah, fuck—take a picture, of me," Jongin breathes out. "You know you _ want _ to."

"Later," Taemin whispers into his ear, a promise, then Taemin finally touches his dick again, jerking it roughly as his thrusts brush against his prostate again and again and again— "Come for me, Jonginnie."

Jongin's not sure how he came right then and there, right when Taemin _ just _told him to come. He's arching his back, spilling his load onto both their stomachs as his entire body convulses. Taemin chases after his own orgasm, madly thrusting into Jongin, only to cum inside him moments after.

This last round felt so good that Jongin is still out of it for a while—and when Jongin comes down from his high, the first thing he sees is Taemin's phone camera pointed at him, the unmuted sound of the shutter clicking multiple times.

"Sorry, can't help it," Taemin says after he puts his phone away, his grin unapologetic. "Like I said, you look stunning like this."

Jongin chuckles. It's not like he minds, after all.

He reaches his arms up and wraps it around Taemin's body, pulling him down so he's lying on top of him. The cum between them is disgustingly sticky, but neither of them care about it.

"Send it to me once you've edited it," Jongin responds, and Taemin laughs. "And tell me next time. I'll even pose for you."

Taemin lifts his head up and smiles down at him mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows. "Bed? In three—no, five minutes?"

"Okay," Jongin laughs, and pulls Taemin in for another kiss.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really edit this properly so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. Comments are appreciated, and you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mlchlwhite) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/melancholywhite)! Thank you for reading ♡
> 
> P.S.  
Taekai always switch, and you won't change my mind 6v6


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